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THE 


ANGEL OF THE PINES 


BY 

SARAH E. PHIPPS 

4J 

Author op ‘.‘The Old House by the Sea” 



BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO. 
835 Broadway, New York 
1912 


Copyright, 1912 

BY 

SARAH E. PHIPPS 


$/, 0 o 

©CI.A328965 
A-o i 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Pines ! the Whispering Pines ! 7 

II. Leonore Demands Diamonds — Desmond’s Re- 
fusal — How She Procures Them 13 

III. Desmond and Jeweller — Precautions Taken to 

Protect Angel 24 

IV. Leonore’s Midnight Meeting with a Dark 

Stranger 35 

V. Mortgaging the Old Homestead 45 

VI. Strange Happenings. — Leonore’s Unexplain- 
able Actions 55 

VII. Strange developments. The Forger is De- 
tected 63 

VIII. The Stormy Interview 73 

IX. Leonore’s Attempt to Kill Desmond. Why She 

didn’t Succeed, Etc 82 

X. The Insane Asylum. Confinement of Leonore. 88 

XI. Death of Leonare 94 

XII. Financial Difficulties 103 

XIII. Angel’s Illness 114 

XIV. Crushed Hopes 121 

XV. Death of Angel Lillian 129 


PREFACE TO "THE ANGEL OF THE PINES.” 

Whatever of instrinsic merit, in plot, or develop- 
ment, is contained in this story, I leave without com- 
ment. The tears, pathos and remorse, sacrifice, and 
despair, without much laughter, sunshine, or mirth, are 
true to life, and life’s failings, all over this beautiful 
earth. I have been told, that the story is too sad; 
Well, perhaps so! The principle sad incidents and 
events, evolved in it, are true to a life history, which I 
could not change if I would — or make brighter, the 
lives, to whom these events belong. If the sobs, heart- 
break, and sadness, written in its pages, reaches the 
hearts of the masses who read it, I shall feel it was not 
written in vain. 

THE AUTHOR. 


" I have cast my bread upon the waters, will it return to me after many 
days.” 


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THE 


ANGEL OF THE PINES 


CHAPTEK I. 

*' Oh the Pines ! the whispering 1 Pines ! 

The gloomy, whispering Pines ! 

They breathe a tale of menacing woe. 

No human mind divines.” 

It stood far back in the beautiful grounds, a grand 
old stone mansion, square, and solidly built, with very 
little outward ornamentation, or fanciful adornment, 
its solidity of structure seeming ample atonement. On 
the left, a broad lawn, with here and there, an arbor, 
or rustic seat, garnished with the native creeper, invited 
rest and ease, while ever refreshing, and cool, was the 
shade beneath the huge elms. In the rear, far beyond 
the strong stone wall that enclosed the ample garden, 
with its fruit and vintage, glittered the broad level 
wheat fields, stretching away in the yellow sunshine, 
with their wealth of ripening grain, and beyond that, 
the cotton fields lifted their billowy, foamy whiteness, 
in the summer air. The dusty country road, seemed to 
creep along past the mansion, and the Pines, like a 
wavering, lazy ribbon, halting between strips of woods, 
and green meadows, until it reached the nearest town, 
five miles distant. Stately, and dignified, with an air 
of conscious aristocracy pervading it, was the old man- 
sion itself; long, low windows opened upon covered 
.verandahs, which extended around three sides of its 

z 


8 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


stony structure. Full as stately as their abode, were 
the proud, and wealthy owners. More than a century 
ago, had that old edifice been erected, by hands that 
long since were folded in silence, and dust. 

High hopes had entered into its design, its archi- 
tecture, and finish; it had passed from father to son, 
in each succeeding generation, down to the present, 
with no stain upon its family escutcheon, no record of 
crime, or sin, or unhallowed passion, hidden from the 
light of day. No odium, however faint, had ever 
descended with any scion of that long, and honorable 
line. 

Indeed, it had ever been an unframed Legend, save 
in each proud heart , — “No stain rests on the race of 
the Sinclair’s” 

In the magnificent picture gallery, at the left of the 
broad upper hall, the prophecy, and fulfilment of the 
Legend, seemed stamped upon the high bred, patrician 
beauty of the regal dames, in their flowing draperies, 
and the proud, and noble features of the handsome 
males, with their bronzed arms and Helmets. 

It had ever been a numerous gathering of friends 
and relatives, that kept the Christmas festivities of 
that joyful season, at the old mansion. Children’s 
voices made the ancient walls ring with their laughter, 
and merriment; while lovers, and betrothed, blushed 
as they listened to the “ sweet old story” told in the 
gloaming shadows, or the flickering light of the old 
fire-place, with its crackling, blazing logs. A rare 
place ever, for an idyllic season of enjoyment, that the 
god’s might envy, with its well known spirit of hospi- 
tality, and unrivaled entertainment, abundance, of 
cheer, and good things generally. Prosperity, peace, 
and happiness, seemed to rest upon the grand old 
place, while care, sorrow, and misfortune, appeared to 
pass it by. Sons had been born to them, and grown to 
their peerless young manhood, had taken their chosen 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


9 


part in the world's hard struggle in the race of life, 
with no dishonor to their credit, and no shadow in their 
background. Lovely daughters had arrived to graceful 
womanhood; with no stain upon their white brows, or 
in their innocent after lives. Would ever the black 
wings of fate, or impending disaster, brood over this 
honored household, carrying death and destruction with 
it, blasting like a hot Simoon breath, everything that 
had hitherto been happy, pure and good? Time only 
will tell. Two old people bend proudly and fondly, 
over a rosewood crib, in the dainty nursery, where a 
beautiful golden haired cherub is sleeping. The little 
waxen hands are clasped above a silken spread; the 
white, tapering fingers, denote even now, aristocratic 
birth, while the little face, with its exquisite beauty, 
and delicacy of feature, seems more heavenly, than 
earthly, with the gentle breath just touching the small 
rosebud mouth. The youngest son, the baby of their 
old age, had been abroad for three years, as an im- 
portant representative of his country, and coming home, 
had brought with him, an alien bride of wondrous 
beauty, and fascinating manners, but which seemed to 
remind one, only of the soft woven spells, and dangerous 
glitter of a coiling serpent. Waving blue black hair, 
large lustrous dark eyes, that seemed to read, and 
fathom your inmost thoughts while they held you with 
their smiling glance, firm as steel, strangely against 
your will. The white tapering fingers would touch 
yours, cool, and soft as velvet, but an electric shiver, 
like a touch of ice, would thrill your entire being. You 
instinctively felt she was near, when as yet, you did not 
see her ; and though you were drawn toward her in her 
presence, you strangely feared her in her absence. This 
was Leonore, the tall, stately, and very beautiful wife 
of handsome Desmond Sinclair and mother of Lillian, 
the angel in the crib. Cicely ! C-i-c-e-l-y ? 

“ Where in the world can the child be now, I wonder,” 


10 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


the dignified housekeeper of the mansion, asked herself, 
as she stood on the long side verandah, looking in every 
direction, for the niece who shared the luxuries of a 
home with her at the Pines, as the place was generally 
called, by the country people around them. Swift 
bounding steps followed the call, and Cicely, a girl of 
about ten years of age, with a dark, piquant, rather 
pretty face, rushed up with the announcement, 

“Here I am Aunty.” 

“Where were you?” I have called, and called!” 

“ Out to the stable on old Jim’s back'.” “ Out to the 
stable, again, with the dogs and horses. 

Cicely — you will never be a lady, the longest day you 
live, if you don’t steady down, and try to be somebody.” 

“ I don’t want to be a lady, (defiantly) wouldn’t be a 
lady, for anything on this wide earth, indeed I wouldn’t 
— Mrs. Leonore is a lady, and the Lord knows I don’t 
want to be like her — ugh ! ” and the child shrugged her 
shoulders very expressively. 

S-h-h ! Cicely ! You must never speak like that, of 
the lady Leonore ! What would she think if she heard 
you ? ” 

“ Well, I don’t care ! She makes me crawl every time 
she comes near me. I don’t want to be a lady, and be 
like her.” 

“ Well, you needn’t worry, Cicely ! There is not the 
slightest danger of you ever being a lady, so don’t let 
that thought give you any uneasiness; and now go in, 
and amuse Angel, while her mamma goes out riding.” 

The small girl obeyed, instantly. It was always a 
pleasure for her to wait upon the winsome little child. 

It was she, who gave it the household name of Angel, 
and this morning, as she gazed into its wonderful eyes, 
and kissed, and caressed its waxen fingers, kneeling by 
the crib, mingled with her great love for it, was also, 
a feeling of awe, and reverence, and a great wonder, 
that it should ever have left the world of Cherubs, and 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


ii 


come here. “ Angel, if you could only tell me some- 
thing about that beautiful land where you lived, before 
you came here,” she said to her on this occasion. “ That 
beautiful heaven, where the Angels, and little children 
live, all dressed in white, and so lovely. What ever 
made you leave it, and come to this dark earth to live? 
and how long are you going to stay? For you are 
an Angel, you know, and will have to go back some day ; 
they will be sure to miss you, and send for you. But 
oh ! don’t go Angel ! don’t go ! I shall miss you too ! 
and I love you so, Angel! I love you so.” And she 
suddenly clasped the child to her heart, as tho’ she 
feared she might be snatched from her, even then. And 
for answer, the little one’s fingers, fluttered over the 
dark face, with their soft touch, and she laughed, and 
coo’d, in response, for baby Lillian was not yet, a year 
old, and of course, could not talk; but she loved her 
self appointed nurse, even better than she did her 
stately, and beautiful mother, and Cicely? — Well in 
after years, she proved her devotion with her life, for 
there was nothing on this earth she loved as she did that 
wee golden-haired baby. Mrs. Ashley, the house-keeper, 
a lady of northern birth, was rather a stately, and 
dignified appendage at the Pines, amply filling her posi- 
tion, with the trust reposed in her, and her kindly, 
unselfish faithfulness ; highly respected, and appreciated 
by every member of the family. Cicely, the orphan 
daughter of her sister, recently deceased, was more or 
less, a puzzle to the good woman. She could not tame 
her down to any domestic tasks, or even get her inter- 
ested in anything light, or fanciful, such as usually 
interests girls of her age. She simply delighted to be 
out with the dogs, the horses, or any of the animals; 
she could ride a horse bare-back, side wise, or recklessly 
standing, like a young Indian; yet, she was invariably 
kind, and gentle in her treatment in training them. 
“ Such a tom boy,” her Aunt would declare with a sigh; 


12 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


“ I don’t know who she takes after, unless it’s on her 
father’s side ; it ain’t on onr side, I know, for her mother 
was as gentle, and lady-like, as any one could be, but — 
Well, I don’t believe I can ever do anything with the 
child, no matter how hard I try. But it does beat all, 
how she takes to baby; never refuses to do anything 
for that dear child, neither could any one else, for that 
matter.” The old lady’s soliloquy was quite true; she 
did not, and would not take to anything domestic. She 
loved Angel, as she had named her, with a strong, 
unselfish, and reverent idolatry, ready to do or die, for 
the beautiful, winsome little creature, who had crept 
unbidden, into her wild, untamable heart, and had come 
to stay; and next, was her love for the dear dumb 
creatures, with whom she spent so much time, studying 
their natures, teaching them new tricks, perfecting her 
own skill in horsemanship, and, as the Stable boy ex- 
pressed it ; “ making a fool of herself generally.” But 
Cicely cared nothing for any such ill-natured remarks; 
she usually followed the bent of her own sweet contrary 
will, and nearly always gained her point. So far as she 
could see, there was enough, and plenty at the Pines, and 
always would be ; there were plenty of servants to do the 
work, and she was not going to trouble herself in that 
department; there was no sickness, or trouble, or death 
to sadden her young, hoydenish spirits, the sky was 
blue, the wheatfields yellow, and plentiful, — and she 
was happy, and satisfied; that describes Cicely at the 
present time. 


(THE ANGEL QE THE PINES 


13 


CHAPTER II. 

The years with their soft shadows and glittering 
sunlight, have passed over the sighing Pines, which 
guard the stately old mansion, bringing with them, 
events, both pleasurable, and sad. Life has not seemed 
to flow along in the smooth even ruts, as of yore. Some- 
thing more than time, has suddenly whitened the once 
abundant dark hair of the fast aging couple ; a whisper 
now and then, a quick look of alarm, and lines of care 
and anxiety, have left their imprint, mysterious and 
iswift, on the proud old faces, indisputable evidence, 
that something of a serious nature, was taking place. 
The servants sometimes spoke in hushed whispers in 
the great roomy old kitchen, of strange actions on the 
part of Lady Leonore, (as she had ever been called, 
since she came there a bride). It was even whispered 
in a solemn tone among themselves that she was not 
“ quite right,” at times ; that the taint of insanity was 
in her foreign blood, and needed only the excitement of 
some great grief, joy, or trouble, to make it decidedly 
manifest, perhaps violent. 

Where they gained their information, or whether they 
were largely surmises on their part, because of their dis- 
like of her, is not known. 

Cicely heard disjointed sentences of these rumors in 
the kitchen, which were generally suspended in her 
presence, yet she had contrived to inform herself, of 
enough of their meaning, and import, to grasp the 
situation, with terror in her wide open, startled eyes. 
“ Going crazy is she ? well ! I ain’t much ’sprised at 
that; she always was queer — least ways I thought so,” 


14 THE ANGEL OF, THE PINES 

she soliloquized when alone. “ She might hurt Angel ! 
who knows what she’ll take it in her funny head to do ? 
Angel ain’t safe, and I’m going to watch out all the 
time now, and see she don’t hurt her. Good Lord ! she 
mustn’t lay her crazy hands on that dear blessed baby ! 
I’ll keep her out of sight with me, as much as I can 
after this. Angel was now five years old, but just as 
sweet, as winsome and innocent as when we first knew 
her, a wee baby in the crib. 

No amount of petting or loving seemed to affect her 
angelic nature, and she surely had enough of it, if that 
would have accomplished it, for she was the idol of the 
household. Cicely immediately appointed herself a 
vigilant body guard over the child, keeping her by her 
side as much as possible, teaching her to ride the horses, 
holding her in the saddle, or sitting the horse her- 
self, and holding Angel in her arms with the animal 
on a keen canter. As the months passed by, in 
this almost daily practice, which was only a pleasant 
pastime to both, Angel became while very young, an 
expert horse-woman, under Cicely’s able tutoring. A 
more beautiful sight could scarcely he imagined, than 
the fleeing, graceful colt, strong, and lithe of limb, 
glossy black, and spirited, with her young mistress seated 
upon her hack, so easily maintaining her position under 
any circumstances, her long golden curls streaming out 
on the air, and her happy laughter, waking the echoes, 
far, and near. The marked love, and intelligent pre- 
ferment of the noble creature, for her beautiful young 
mistress, was very touching to witness; it needed only 
a tone of her dear voice, or a wave of her little hand, or 
a cheering, ringing shout, to bring her obediently to 
Angel’s side. The wide, level meadow land was their 
race course, and the homage of Crowned heads, would 
not have given Angel one half the satisfaction, as did 
the simple hand-clapping of Cicely, to mark her ap- 
proval of some extra feat, or successful, but dangerous 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


15 


prowess on her part. And so the years quietly slipped 
by, developing, and silently chronicling strange events 
in their wake. The reckless extravagance of the beauti- 
ful young wife, was a known fact; the generally easy 
acquiescence of the young husband, to her imperious 
demands for money, however, was known only to the 
family, but the grave, and troubled demeanor of the 
old couple at the Manor, was very apparent. That was 
not all! A positive knowledge of certain transactions 
which appalled them, and which they strove heroically, 
to hide from the world, and conceal in their own proud 
hearts, only admitting the fact in whispers, in the 
quiet seclusion of their private room, when they coun- 
ciled together how best to stem the devastating tide; 
that an impending danger, was about to hasten a 
catastrophe, that would sooner, or later, break above 
their devoted heads, they realized only too well, and 
they were bending all their feeble energies to avert it. 
A fearful specter had appeared that cast its awful 
shadow before, and slowly settled like a black pall, over 
that once happy home. 

Desmond! I must have those diamonds! I cannot, 
and will not attend the Ambassador's reception, with- 
out that set to light up my new Paris gown ; I wish to 
eclipse every one present with my dazzling costume, and 
make them green with envy. 

“But Leonore! I have not the purchase price of 
them; my bank account is lessening every day, as you 
well know, in fact it is growing alarmingly small by your 
terrible reckless extravagance; and unless I am fortu- 
nate enought to get that foreign position very soon, I 
shall be penniless, and nothing between us, and depend- 
ence on my father, in the old homestead here." 

“ Well ! would you have me attend this grand affair, 
looking shabby?" 

“ You would not look shabby, even without an orna- 
ment ; your wardrobe is already overflowing with gowns, 


i6 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


elegant, and costly enough to grace a Queen. And as 
for jewels — you have that almost priceless diamond, and 
ruby set, also the superb amethysts, to say nothing of 
the exquisite pearl, and garnet set, jewels enough to 
satisfy any reasonable mortal.” 

“ Just like a man’s senseless arguments; I have worn 
each at least, twenty times in public — every one in our 
select circle have seen them so often, I am sure they 
must be heartily tired of the sight of them, for I hate 
them myself; any way, I want a decided change, some- 
thing entirely new.” 

“ Leonore ! I would certainly gratify you, if I could, 
I have always done so, that is why my bank account is 
so depleted; I cannot in this instance, for I am almost 
a bankrupt. You understand the situation thoroughly; 
now, be reasonable, and sensible.” 

“ Very well then ! I will not go looking like a beggar ; 
I intend to have the most elegant costume of any lady 
present, and I must have those diamonds, or not go at 
all ; besides, you know whether you dare risk losing your 
high position, by not accepting this invitation.” 

“ Leonore? you are enought to drive a man to mad- 
ness. What in heaven’s name would you have me do, 
when I have not the price of the jewels, and you know 
it?” 

“ You could easily mortgage the old place, and obtain 
the price.” 

“ What ? mortgage my father’s property, to pay for 
baubles for you to wear to a ball? Would you have me 
commit a crime against the established laws of the land, 
even if you would ignore the higher law of filial affec- 
tion, unstained honor, and decent manhood? No! No! 
Leonore ! you cannot possibly mean it.” 

“ I care not how you obtain the money (with a shrug 
of her white, dainty shoulders) you can manage it some 
way, but if we attend this diplomatic function, I must 
certainly have the baubles, as you are pleased to call 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


IZ 

them ; you could mortgage the Manor without the knowl- 
edge of the old people, and I am sure you could easily 
meet the difficulty with ready funds, when the time ar- 
rives.” 

“ Great heavens, Leonore ! you are enough to tempt 
a saint to sin, if that were possible. Do you realize the 
awful consequences of such an act? do you realize that 
it would imperil my life, turn my old gray haired par- 
ents out of their life-long home? Yes, literally out of 
doors in their old age, and helplessness? There has 
never yet been a stain on the Sinclair name, through the 
long generations flown, and please God, I, the youngest, 
will not be the first to bring disgrace on the old, and 
honored line of dead, and gone ancestors.” 

“As you will! I care not; you know best, whether 
you dare offend by not attending this reception, and 
ball, and so lose the position just within your grasp ; if 
you care more for the silly sentiment, of so called, family 
honor, then you do for ” 

“ Stop Leonore, where you are ! Family honor, or 
anything else good, and true, seems to have no weight 
with you, when it conflicts with any desire you have. I 
would be tempted to shoot myself, for the cowardly vil- 
lain that I would be, if I yielded to your importunities, 
and committed this crime. To think that a wife, instead 
of advising a husband against sin, or disgrace, would 
almost drive him to it, and he a Sinclair too. But since 
your heart seems so set upon those baubles, I will if 
possible to obtain them by honorable means, endeavor 
to get them for you; but understand, by honorable 
means only, not without.” 

“ I care not how you obtain them, so I have them in 
time for the Ambassadors reception. I don’t believe 
you will ever regret that you humored my whim, as you 
call it in this instance, as it may be the means of secur- 
ing the last bit of influence you need. I will reward 
you with a kiss, and caress, for the promise,” and the 
imperious creature advanced with outstretched arms. 


i8 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


But Desmond coldly waved her back; just now, he 
was in no mood to receive kisses, or caresses, from 
one who would barter them for the possible price of 
crime, dishonor, and perhaps death. He had in con- 
templation, the thought, that if he could borrow the 
money on the present security of his promised position, 
he would gratify her in this caprice, as he had in many 
another costly thing, in which he could ill afford the 
price. But he did not put into immediate execution, 
the half formed intention ; he hesitated to tax the kind- 
ness of his friends, for the purchase price of jewels, 
which he considered useless, when she already had many 
costly sets, worthy the covetous glances of a Queen. 
But the time was fast drawing near, for the grand 
function, to which they had accepted invitations, and 
were making great preparations to attend, and the dia- 
monds, in their pale blue satin lined casket, had not yet 
flashed back their radiance on her dressing table. 
Leonore grew impatient, she had been sumblimely 
patient, so far relying upon Desmond’s half promise 
to obtain them if possible. 

But now, she decided she could wait no longer; she 
must know his decision at once, and if he still refused 
her request, — well! she would have them anyway; it 
was in the interview that followed, soon after this, that 
she learned in a few decisive words, his inability to meet 
her unreasonable demands. 

"No! I cannot afford the price, Leonore! My ex- 
penses have been very heavy of late, as you already know, 
and my bank account is nearly exhausted; the firm’s 
price, though not exorbitant for jewels of their size and 
purity, is nevertheless, beyond my present limited 
means.” 

" I am well aware of their almost priceless value, and 
for that very reason, I greatly desire them, and must 
have them, Desmond. No one attending this affair, will 
have anything approaching their magnificence.” 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


19 


“ You must not desire impossibilities, Leonore. How- 
do you expect me to buy them when I have nothing near 
the price?” 

“ Draw the funds you have in the bank, and borrow 
the remainder from your friends — that is easy enough 
I think.” 

“Yes! quite easy in theory, but not so easy in 
practice; besides in this case, entirely unnecessary. I 
shall not test the loyalty of my friends, just now, by 
attempting to borrow money, especially such a large 
amount, with no positive assurance of repaying them, 
either in the near, or distant future.” 

“ Then mortgage the old place, for a few thousand ; 
you can certainly do that, and repay it with interest, 
when you have secured your position. You promised 
once, you would procure the diamonds for me; I hope 
you are not going back on your word, Desmond ? ” 

“Goaded by your wild importunities, I promised if 
possible to obtain them by fair means, to do so, but I 
never promised to commit crime, for their purchase, 
even to please you,” he replied hotly. I owe some alle- 
giance to the laws of the land that protects me.” 

“More allegiance than you do to your wife, I pre- 
sume,” she replied. 

“In this instance, yes; when that wife urges me to 
the commission of a felony, the penalty of which is a 
cell, a grated window, disgrace for life, a desolated 
home, and perhaps, two freshly turned mounds in the 
Cemetery, with two gray heads, and broken hearts 
beneath; understand once for all, Leonore, that I shall 
never bring a lifelong trouble on this honored house- 
hold, to gratify an unreasonable whim of yours. Wear 
some of your many dazzling jewels, of which you have 
an abundance and be satisfied.” 

“ I will never appear at this reception, in any of the 
old sets, which I have worn times without number, I will 
stay at home first;” and the imperious beauty stamped 
her foot defiantly. 


20 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


“ Very well ! suit yourself my dear,” and Desmond 
Sinclair sauntered from the room, with a frown on his 
brown, and a troubled expression on his usually sunny 
face. But the next morning, my dainty lady ordered 
the carriage, and the high stepping grays, and the 
dignified coachman drove to the city, many miles dis- 
tant, where she gave him orders to await her pleasure, 
and leisure also. It was quite late in the afternoon, 
when she signified her readiness to return home. It was 
quite late then, and what her errand there, or her busi- 
ness transactions, no one knew quite as well as herself. 
The serving man had driven to many prominent loca- 
tions, and as per her orders, had waited her leisure in 
respectful silence. But hidden in a secret drawer of her 
dressing case, reposing on a bed of pale blue satin, in 
an ebony casket, was a dazzling necklace, pendant, and 
hair ornament, of such resplendent light and beauty, 
that an Empress might well covet its possession, but her 
husband was in blissful ignorance of its existence. 
Meantime a marked coolness had crept between them, 
since the day of their last stormy interview, and the 
time of her mysterious visit to the city, and the advent 
of the Ambassador’s ball, was very near. 

As Leonore made no farther allusion to the jewels, 
but had apparently acquiesced to fate, or the inevitable, 
(even if not patiently) Desmond felt a kind of remorse 
for his forced uncompromising attitude, and a genuine 
pity for her, and a kindly desire, for the old time peace, 
and good will between them. Attributing her persistent 
silence to mortified pride and anger, at his refusal to 
grant her unreasoning request, he tried to effect a recon- 
ciliation between them, but all his efforts were met with 
icy coolness on her part. At last, the night of their 
attendance to the great “fete” arrived, and when her 
maid lifted the white cashmere cloak, with its billowy 
cloud of soft swansdown from her shoulders, and 
Leonore laid her delicately gloved hand on her husband’s 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


21 


arm, to enter the flower banked, and perfumed recep- 
tion rooms, Desmond Sinclair stood aghast, and hor- 
rified. His wife stood before him triumphant, magnifi- 
cently robed, with arms, and shoulders bare, and encircl- 
ing the fair white contour of her perfect neck, clasping 
one slender wrist, and blazing in the purple blackness 
of her waving hair, were the priceless jewels she had so 
coveted. Like a dream of beauty, graceful and sweet, 
resplendent in her gown of cream satin, and rare old 
lace, she moved down the long rooms, leaning on the 
Ambassador’s arm, an added brilliancy in her large dark 
eyes, a crimson bloom on each cool white cheek, sug- 
gestive of intense excitement, and gratified pride. 

Desmond could ask no questions there, give no hint of 
the agitation that was consuming him with inward fires, 
though his fear, anxiety, and forebodings were great, 
he was outwardly self-possessed, natural and gracious to 
all. But he could not exclude from his mind, the con- 
stantly recurring question which demanded an answer. 

“ How did she procure those diamonds ? ” Where did 
she get the money that represents the enormous price 
stipulated for them?” He could not think she would 
stoop to any undue means to obtain them, yet, turn 
the subject in the most favorable light possible, only one 
fearful probability suggested itself to his mind, and his 
proud heart sank within him at the thought, and the 
disastrous consequences that might result from this 
rash determination, to outshine every one, in the matter 
of dress, and costly jewels. A thousand times now, that 
it was too late, he regretted that he had not risked the 
coveted position, and sent regrets of himself and wife, 
for non attendance to this, the grandest affair, of many 
seasons, and thus perhaps, avert an impending calamity 
of, he knew not what. He was feverish to know the 
truth, and yet, — he shrank, as from some unseen, and 
terrible foe, the knowledge he would obtain, when all 
its bare outlines were revealed to him. 


22 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


The reception, the ball, the music, the flowers, the 
marvelous costumes, the unsurpassed beauty, and wit of 
the gay assemblage of lovely women, all combined to 
make the Ambassador's " fete " one that would long be 
remembered for its gorgeousness, and display of wealth. 
Conspicuous among them all, in her faultless costume, 
lovely jewels, sparkling vivacity, and gracious manner, 
was Desmond Sinclair's beautiful wife, Leonore. Con- 
stantly surrounded by admiring and courtly cavaliers, 
she moved a very queen among them, her scepter, the 
strange, unexplainable power, which was everywhere re- 
marked, and seemed irresistibly, to draw every one 
within her magic circle. It was in “ the wee sma hours " 
when the glittering carriages began to depart, the grand 
function closed, and Desmond handed his lady into their 
equipage, and took his seat beside her. Leonore, feigning 
weariness, lay back among the luxurious cushions, closed 
her eyes, and thus, no word was spoken on the long, 
silent drive home. Desmond, too proud to betray any 
trouble before a servant, maintained an outward calm 
he little felt; but once in the seclusion of their private 
room, the wretched man stood before her, white, and 
stern, with folded arms, and demanded of her the truth, 
and nothing but the truth, concerning the diamonds, 
and how she had procured them. She was about to 
ring the bell, to summon her maid to assist in disrobing 
her, but paused a moment, to observe him with her cool, 
inscrutable eyes, then languidly remarked, that the hour 
was late, she was somewhat weary, and would like to 
retire; could not his morbid desire for information, be 
conveniently postponed until a more suitable time ? No ! 
Cruel as it might seem to her, in her evident need of 
rest, he still insisted upon the facts now. He informed 
her he was not likely to sleep very much, himself, if he 
retired with this unexplained burden, and suspense on 
his mind therefore, he insisted upon knowing now. 
Then, she retorted, slowly, — that probably, he would 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


23 


not sleep any better, if he did know, how she obtained 
them and advised him to curb his curiosity, until some 
other time. Endeavoring to control himself, with an 
almost superhuman effort, her taunting words drove 
him almost to the verge of distraction, knowing she was 
only playing a part, to conceal the real knowledge from 
him, as long as she could; then there was a fearful, 
and animated scene in that upper room, in the stillness 
of the morning hours. The result was that she adroitly, 
and swiftly, retreated to the adjoining apartment, bang- 
ing the door behind her, turning the key immediately, 
leaving him standing there, amazed, indignant, and per- 
fectly wretched, with no light thrown on the subject, 
and he no wiser than before. 


24 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


CHAPTER III. 

The Spider spun his silken web. 

Mid the light and the shade combining ; 

And over the wreck, on the desolate shore, 

The slanting sun was shining.— P hipps. 

Days passed by; days of wretchedness, despair, and 
consuming anxiety, in the every day routine of Desmond 
Sinclair’s life. In hourly expectation of something 
happening, which he could not explain; some horrible 
calamity, which he felt powerless to avert; an awful 
something, not yet in tangible form, but which he felt 
was hanging over him, and the household, yet could not 
be put into name or word, filled him with forebodings, 
and gloomy fancies, which he could not shake off. 
Even the Diplomatic position, so long, and so ardently 
desired, and now fully assured by the foreign Court, 
could not lighten the depression, or brighten his pros- 
pects. He sometimes hoped the worst would happen, 
and so have the terrible suspense broken by the reality, 
and thus be in a position perhaps to do battle with the 
unseen foe. After one, or two other unsatisfactory in- 
terviews with his wife, in reference to the jewels, (in 
which he was totally defeated by her wit, strategy, and 
evasiveness,) he left the field, reluctantly acknowledging 
himself beaten, and not a whit the wiser. Then there 
ensued an icy silence between them ; a silence so manifest, 
that it was known and felt, by the entire household. 

The time was now fast approaching, when he would 
leave the old Manor, and take the high position offered 
him in a foreign country. The necessary preparations 
were being made, but with the strained relations between 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


25 


himself, and Leonore, conflicting emotions were taking 
place within him, whether she should accompany him or 
not; the mystery of the diamonds, and how she had 
obtained them, without money, was just as dense as 
ever, and until it could be satisfactorily explained, with 
no disgrace, or sin attached, there could be no con- 
fidence, no restored peace, no reconciliation between 
them. With this domestic estrangement, at present, he 
had no desire for empty pretention, no wish to have 
her near him now, or accompany him on the journey; 
no — not even to avoid what the gossips might say, if 
she remained behind. The climax came swiftly enough, 
when once matured. Less than a month from the 
Ambassador’s ball, a note was brought to the aristocratic 
old Manor, at the pines, one morning, by special Mes- 
senger, demanding immediate payment of two thou- 
sand, five hundred dollars, for diamonds purchased by 
Mrs. Leonore Sinclair, of Proffit, and Co., jewelers of — 
City, for which he had given his note for a certain num- 
ber of days, which were now due. Desmond Sinclair 
stood rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak, or 
think, when he read the letter, and amount of demand. 
It was a long wait, and the messenger stood watching 
him, with what patience he could command ; finally, the 
almost paralyzed man, found voice to articulate, 

“ I will report in person immediately ; ” and the con- 
veyor of bad tidings departed. Again the high stepping 
grays were pacing swiftly over the same sunny country 
road, but on a very different errand, from the one on 
which they had borne their beautiful, imperious mis- 
tress, a month ago. "I never saw this note before to- 
day ! ” Desmond declared to the smooth, smiling, obse- 
quious diamond merchant, bending over the counter. 

“ There is possibly some slight mistake somewhere, 
which can be easily remedied; this is certainly your 
handwriting, is it not ? ” the keen jeweler asked. 

"It looks like my writing, of course; but I never 


26 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


wrote that note; never authorized any one else to write 
it; and never consented to the purchase of the jewels, ” 
strongly, and very firmly, declared Desmond Sinclair. 

“Well! there is the note in your handwriting and 
your wife presented the note ; she has the diamonds, and 
we want the cash, and that immediately .” There was 
no oil in the tones now, but the voice was firm, and hard. 

“I cannot pay it it is utterly impossible for me to 
raise that amount now ; exclaimed the wretched man de- 
spairingly. “Besides I never gave the note — I know 
nothing about it.” 

“Do we understand that you wish us to protest the 
note ? ” came the answer in the same hard tones. 

“But I still insist that the note is a forgery,” said 
Desmond, now almost in a state of collapse. 

“ Granted ! but if a forgery, who then is the forger — 
your wife?” 

A dangerous light leaped into Desmond Sinclair’s blue 
eyes, as he raised them steadily to the small gray orbs 
of the diamond merchant, and said in a suppressed tone 
that carried a world of meaning to the ears of his 
listener, “ Do not dare to say one word against my wife, 
either in connection with a forgery, or otherwise. 
“Understand she is my wife, and also, that I am a 
Sinclair.” He spoke proudly, defiantly, forgetting for 
a moment in his loyal defence of his wife, the crime she 
had committed. 

“ Oh ! I don’t say the lady in question did this work,” 
(the tones were oily again), “I only suggest, that if 
this note is a forgery, some one unknown to you has imi- 
tated your handwriting to a nicety, and the penalty for 
such a crime is severe and unrelenting, to say nothing 
of the disgrace of exposure.” 

Desmond Sinclair unconsciously bowed his head upon 
his hand, oh, so wearily. “ But this is appalling, in its 
heavy magnitude,” he said brokenly; “I do not know 
where to obtain the money.” 


t THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


27 


“ Oh ! you can easily raise the amount,” the suave voice 
asserted ; “ The Sinclair name has ever been above re- 
proach, and they are known for their wealth, probity, 
and honesty, for generations, farther back than I can 
remember, and surely, it should not distress you to pay 
this little amount.” 

Little amount ! The sum of more than two thousand 
dollars ! and that too, in a very short time. He sat in 
quiet thought for a few moments, then raised his bowed 
head; in that brief space, he had seemingly aged years. 
“ Give me a few days’ time in which to meet your de- 
mand, and I promise you on the honor of a Sinclair, it 
shall be met without disgrace,” he said. 

“ The word of a Sinclair, is as good as any other 
person’s bond,” assured the polished hypocrite, as he 
bowed his disconsolate guest out of the luxuriously 
furnished private office. 

In the stillness of the closed carriage, on his way 
home, Desmond groaned aloud, with his face hidden in 
his trembling hands. “ How can I effectually cover this 
awful, this living disgrace of Leonore? how succeed in 
raising the money, that will save her from the terrible 
penalty of the law, for forgery.” Forgery? the word 
semed to burn his tongue as he breathed it even in a 
whisper. “ Where will I obtain the money to pay for 
the jewels, and so wipe out the stain from the family 
name?” was the oft repeated, and agonized inquiry of 
his mind, as he fought the question all along that ever 
remembered homeward journey, for he was fully deter- 
mined to save Leonore from the penalty of her crime, 
which her inordinate vanity, and desire for display had 
led her into. Just as strong as his determination to 
save her from merited imprisonment, was the inbred, 
inherited pride of the Sinclair’s, over their untarnished 
name, and reputation. 


No stain rests on the race of Sinclair.’ 


28 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


The true meaning of the old legend, must be perpetu- 
ated in this instance, and its stainless name maintained. 
But how? the question again confronted him, and was 
not so easily answered, or its complications yet settled, 
when the gray’s stopped at the winding Avenue, and he 
stood once more in the wide old hall. Not trusting him- 
self to see, or greet any one of the domestic circle, in his 
present frame of mind, he strode white, and stern, to his 
wife’s boudoir, where she was usually found at that 
hour. “ Leonore,” he exclaimed, without farther pre- 
lude before reaching the important subject, “Your 
crime has been discovered.” 

Your forgery of my honest name, has this day been 
exposed; the first forgery, or disgrace of any kind, that 
has ever attached to the Sinclair family, through all its 
long generations, has been brought about by your hand.” 
a Look at that,” and he thrust the bill for the diamonds 
before her. “ Look well at it, and then say if you can, 
that you are not a forger, and almost a fugitive from 
justice this very moment.” The terrible accusation had 
been sudden, and convincing, giving her no time to 
hedge, with denials, or explanations; she looked at him 
one long minute, with wide open startled eyes, and a 
catching of breath, the old time habitual indifference of 
tone, and manner, assumed outward expression. The 
utter silence of days, was broken at last by 

“Well! What of it? You would not consent to get 
them for me, as I desired you to do, so I bought them 
myself ; now you can pay for them, as a husband should 
pay for his wife’s debts.” 

“You bought them you say! Bought them with 
forged paper, on your husband’s unsullied name. 
Bought them with the broken laws of the land, and 
with prison walls looming up before you, incarceration 
in a stone cell, and the disgraceful stigma of a felon 
forever clinging to you ; and worse yet, you bearing the 
honored name of a Sinclair, it is also, dragged down in 
the mud and mire with you.” 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


29 

Her beautiful red lips were curled in a contemptuous 
sneer. “ Always the Sinclair’s— the Sinclair’s— the Sin- 
clare’s,” she answered. “ I am heartily tired of hearing 
it; I wish to heaven, I had never seen, or heard of a 
Sinclair.” 

“ Amen ! ” Desmond replied, “ I heartily wish you 
never had, for the peace and comfort of the family. 
Leonore, I will try to pay this disgraceful debt — some- 
how, if I can ; God only knows how I can accomplish it, 
and save you from your well deserved fate at the decree 
of the law, but, hear me now, register an eternal oath, 
as solemn as though pronounced at the Judgment Bar 
of God. From this moment, you are no longer my wife, 
in love, thought, word or deed. Simply in name, and 
name only ; simply because we are legally married, which 
tie I would absolve, except for the sake of the sinless 
child, playing out on the lawn, this minute. When I 
cross the Ocean, you go with me, but only to be sent to 
your father, a discarded wife, with a certain amount 
settled upon you, amply sufficient for maintenance, the 
rest of your life; for I solemnly swear, never to recog- 
nize you as my wife again, or suffer you to be near me, 
if I can help it in the future.” 

"As you will,” she answered indifferently. "I was 
never happy here, immured in this gloomy old stone 
shell, with only your stupid old father and mother for 
companions, and all I ever loved, or held dear, left be- 
hind me in dear lovely sunny Spain. But I warn you, 
when the right time comes, I will tell my side of the 
story over there, and tell it too, to the high personages 
of your Official circle, I will drag you down from your 
affected height, and smirch your immaculate name just 
as you do mine, — Yea! I will do more and worse; I 
will teach your daughter, as she grows into womanhood, 
to hate and despise you, and all your accursed proud old 
race, of which you are always so ready to boast.” 

" I will see that you do not have the opportunity to 


30 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


carry out that very desirable scheme of yours, for I shall 
legally retain the care and custody of my child, and 
keep her out of your care and influence entirely; she 
will be left here, with my parents, where I can vouch she 
will be reared in honesty, virtue, and noble womanhood.” 

She looked at him with a strange expression in her 
great dark, glittering eyes, then she spoke. “And I 
can vouch also, that you will not carry out that very 
benevolent intent,” she declared with emphasis. “ You 
cannot deprive me of the custody of my own flesh and 
blood; you dare not attempt it. Leave her here with 
your people? Never! I would strangle her first” 

“ Thank you for that important bit of information ! 
Porewarned is forearmed. Now that you have revealed 
your maternal intentions, I shall constantly act on the 
defensive, and you will be quietly watched.” He neither 
bowed, or waited for a reply, but passed out of the 
room, and slowly down the broad stairs. Taking a cir- 
cuit around to the rear of the house, he encountered the 
housekeeper. “ Mrs. Ashley ” he said, “ I would like a 
few moments’ private conversation with you on a very 
important subject, if you have the time to spare.” 

“ Oh dear lord ! ” thought that good woman, “ what has 
Cice been into now, with the dogs and horses at the barn, 
I’d like to know; it must be something serious, or the 
young master wouldn’t come to complain to me.” But 
outwardly, she showed no trace of her agitation as she 
answered pleasantly, “I shall be pleased, and honored 
to give you any time or attention, you may desire ; will 
you come to my sitting room? Cicely and Angel are 
there now.” 

“ Yes, I would much prefer to see you in your domain, 
where the servants are not likely to intrude.” 

Mrs. Ashley led the way to her neat, comfortable 
sitting room, inwardly quaking in fear of the disclosures 
made against “ that girl.” 

As they drew near the open door, they heard sounds 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


3i 


of merriment, and discovered Angel sitting on the 
couch, laughing merrily at Cicely’s extraordinary, and 
ridiculous attempts at gymnastics. “ Cicely ” she said 
take Angel into the bedroom, and shut the door, and 
keep quiet a few moments. The girl did as she was bid, 
but left the door partially open and somehow, they were 
both wonderfully still for awhile. Cicely in a crouching 
position listened at the conveniently open space, and 
mentally commented. She too, like her aunt, was 
somewhat worried in regard to the unusual interview. 
She wondered and silently commented on a number of 
things, for she was in a chronic state with the “ hands ” 
at the barn, and stable. “ Wonder she thought, if that 
confounded Dan, told him how I rode one of the 
“ Grays ” yesterday, bareback, with Angel in my arms ? 
He said he would, and I told him if he dared to, I’d 
sell him down the river for a half white “ nigger.” 
Listen Angel, she whispered as the child began to grow 
restless at the long restraint, she heard no complaint, 
but what she did hear, was of infinite more importance 
to her, for it concerned the welfare of the one thing 
that she loved better than anything on this earth. 

“Mrs. Ashley” Desmond began, when they were 
seated, “ you have been a loved, and trusted member of 
our family, for a great many years. There are not many 
family secrets I fancy, that are locked from you, because 
we all know, and appreciate your sterling worth, and 
loyalty to our family.” She simply bowed her head, 
but made no reply. “I have no desire to question, or 
go into details, but you must have observed, Mrs. Ashley, 
that there are rather strained relations, at present, in 
the household. 

“ I have,” she replied. 

“Now I wish to make this important request, Mrs. 
Ashley, and I depend upon you, to see that it is carried 
out to the letter. I want you, and Cicely, to keep my 
darling in your apartments, and under your personal 


32 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


vigilance, so closely, that no one, no matter who it 
might be, can possibly harm her. This may, or may 
not, seem strange to you; I cannot explain fully now; 
coming events may make it necessary to do so. But 
this much of the truth is apparent, and will bear 
admittance; my wife’s health is failing, and she is not 
strong enough, to have the care, and responsibility of 
our precious child, nor do I wish her to. My earnest 
wish is, that you and Cicely, keep her out of her vicin- 
ity, and under your watchful care night and day, here- 
after. Will you do so, Mrs. Ashley? ” 

“I certainly will, Mr. Desmond! as it is your wish, 
it will be law unflinchingly with me,” she answered 
earnestly. “ I know more of your trouble, perhaps, than 
your words express, but you know I can be trusted with 
this partially revealed secret, as I have been with other 
family affairs, though maybe, of not so grave a nature. 
I will faithfully carry out your wishes, and remain — 
silent. 

Desmond rose, and grasped her hand warmly, and 
though no farther word was spoken on the subject, 
each knew that the other understood the situation 
thoroughly, and was pledged to fidelity, and silence. 
“ Mother,” Desmond remarked, as he passed through 
the morning room, and stopped a moment to speak to 
her, “be a little watchful over yourself when alone in 
the presence of Leonore. I think she is not as well as 
usual, and not — quite right — You understand what 
I mean ? ” and he tapped his forehead. 

“ Yes, my son,” the old lady responded, in a troubled 
manner; “I think we all understand, and in a quiet 
way, we one and all, endeavor, to be on our guard.” 

“ Do the servants know, mother ? ” 

“ I fear they know more than you imagine, my son.” 
“ I very much regret that, mother. Yes, I also wish, 
they were not quite so sharp. I have put Angel in Mrs. 
Ashley’s entire charge— have I your approval, mother?” 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


33 


“ You have my hearty approval, my son. I was think- 
ing of proposing some kind of safeguard for the child, 
but delayed. No more faithful guardian could be found, 
than that worthy woman; and I really believe Cicely 
would lay down her life for the dear one.” 

Desmond stood a moment irresolute, then he said 
suddenly — “ Mother? something has happened lately, 
of a very serious nature, the real facts of which, I will 
not acquaint you just now; sooner, or later, you and 
father will know all. It is an event, on which I must 
reflect seriously, before I can act. But remember this, 
however dark circumstances may look, as never yet has a 
Sinclair brought a disgrace on the proud old name, 
neither will I, by any act of mine, though I may be 
driven to desperation, to relieve this terrible strain, and 
avert a possible calamity.” 

“ I will not question, my son ; in your own good time, 
I know you will reveal it to me. But whatever the 
nature of this new trouble is remember, you have your 
mother’s sympathy, always; she is true and loyal, if 
everything else fails.” 

“I know it, mother! I know it; God forever bless 
you for those words,” and he passed his arm around her 
stately neck, with its lace collar, and kissed her affec- 
tionately. “ I am very weary, and think I will go to my 
room, and try to rest. Good-night, mother ! ” 

“ Good-night, my dear boy; whatever happens, I 
know you will do nothing wrong.” 

"I shall endeavor to keep the legend untarnished, 
mother mine, though I may be sorely tried. Good- 
night,” and he passed out of the room. 

The proud old lady looked after him wistfully, as he 
traversed the length of the wide carpeted hall, and up 
the broad stairs to his private apartment ; then he care- 
fully examined the fastenings of the two doors, one 
leading into the hall, the other opening into the boudoir, 

occupied by Leouore. When he felt satisfied as to their 

\. 


34 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


security, he sat down by the open window, to study the 
perplexing situation. The cool evening breeze lifted 
the light brown hair, from his hot, throbbing forehead, 
as though it would woo the sweet restful slumber to 
the troubled eyes, in which lay a world of misery, and 
despair. Turn the subject in the most favorable light 
possible, only one alternative presented itself, and he 
shrank from that, as a dire calamity. No ! he would not 
take advantage of that one available issue, until all 
others had failed, and every other door was closed, in 
which to obtain the necessary sum in the time limited 
by the diamond broker. 

How long he sat there, he knew not, for his thoughts 
were not pleasant companions, and the prospect not very 
alluring, yet unconsciously, nature was asserting her 
claims, and soft footed sleep was closing his tired eyelids, 
when the sudden, and distinct click of the door-knob, as 
it was stealthily turned, aroused him. He was wide 
awake in an instant, and as he sprung to the door, and 
threw it wide open, he distinctly heard muffled, but 
swiftly retreating footsteps down the hall, leading into 
the aisle passage. 


.THE ANGEL OE THE PINES 


35 


CHAPTER IV. 

leonore’s midnight meeting with a dark stranger. 

Now over the wreck, on the shining sand, 

On that desolate— desolate shore: 

No sun will rise, or moonbeams shine, 

Darkness, forevermore.— Phipps. 

Desmond was greatly disturbed in his mind, over this 
strange, and wholly, unlooked for occurrence, especi- 
ally at this late hour. Again he threw himself into the 
chair, to try to solve the mystery if possible, or at least 
find some plausible excuse for the suspicious intrusion, 
and swift retreat of the intruder. Long he sat there 
(he was not inclined to sleep now) and the weary hours 
wore away, while he brooded over the magnitude of the 
trouble before him, which he must meet, and face man- 
fully, and it was not until the small sounds of bird, and 
insect life awoke the world of darkness to light again, 
that his tired eyes closed and this time in sound slumber. 

It was late, when next he awoke from his cramped and 
unrestful position in the big arm chair, where he had 
slept in utter exhaustion at last. The sun was shining 
broadly in the room, and he awoke to the full realization 
of all he had to contend with; the awful burden that 
must be lifted, and by him; awoke sharply to the 
horror, the despair and humiliation of the terrible 
situation. And she, who had brought all this dire mis- 
fortune upon him, sat at her ease, clad in elegant silks, 
resplendent in jewels, smiling, happy and supremely in- 
different to the woe of her husband, and all the strain 
of evils she had brought on the entire household. He 


36 THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 

arose, made a hasty toilet, and descended to a late 
breakfast, then called for the carriage, and prepared for 
the weary, and unpleasant task of collecting money due 
him, some of which were large sums, that had been 
loaned to friends who had never made the least effort 
to pay it, although they were profuse enough at the 
time, with eternal gratitude, and a ready compliance, 
if he needed a like loan. The day passed in this dis- 
couraging and unprofitable quest, so also, did many 
other days, and each night brought him home, more 
utterly wretched, and sick at heart, than the preceding 
one. Only that he must live ; must face this impending 
calamity, with all the resolute energy of his manhood, 
and with almost superhuman perseverence, avert the 
awful disgrace of exposure, and consequences of the 
law to Leonore; and endeavor to shield his beloved 
parents, and his little child, from this humiliating 
shame, he would have given up the struggle, and 
sought rest, and forgetfulness, at the muzzle of a 
loaded revolver. That would have been only one life — 
his. The present outlook, involved others, more 
precious than his own, and he would never leave those 
honored old gray heads, to face this disgrace alone, or 
fight a hopeless issue against mighty odds, that would 
in the end engulf them, and sweep away the very home 
which sheltered them. The time, specified to meet the 
payment, was drawing dangerously near, and then the 
idea suddenly occurred to him, that perhaps he could 
effect a compromise with the firm, by returning the 
diamonds. The interview was more easily, and satis- 
factorily arranged, than he anticipated. They would, 
under the peculiar circumstances, accept the return of 
the stones, if in as good condition, as when they left 
their vaults, and fifteen hundred dollars credit, allowed 
on the bill. The balance of one thousand dollars, how- 
ever, must be paid on the specified time. In vain Des- 
mond declared this sum exorbitant, and unlawful, 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


37 


especially as the diamonds were in no wise injured, and 
were intact. But the cunning merchant was inexorable, 
and under the stress of circumstances, Desmond ac- 
cepted their terms, and on reaching home, again sought 
his wife’s presence, with a peremptory demand for the 
jewels. 

He was met with just as peremptory a refusal; she 
even declaring, she no longer had them in her pos- 
session. This Desmond knew to be an utter fabrication, 
for the sole purpose of retaining secret possession of 
the jewels. “ Where are they then?” he demanded. 

“ Where you will never see them again,” she answered 
insolently. 

He regarded her very sternly, for a moment, then 
he spoke in slow, measured tones, “Leonore, I must 
have the diamonds; and you must give them to me. 
I am compelled to return them to the firm, to partially 
cancel the enormous debt, for which you have made 
me, as your husband responsible. Possibly, I can 
succeed in obtaining the remainder, somewhere ; though 
I am not certain even of that — I wish I were. I am 
exerting myself in this supreme effort, to cover up your 
crime ; to save you, from the consequences of your awful 
deed; and to conceal from the world, the living disgrace 
on the Sinclair name, of having a forger in the family, 
even by alien connection.” 

She winced under that last home thrust, but stood 
silent, and immovable, as though still debating what 
course to pursue ; finally, she slowly answered. “ I do 
not fear any of the terrible events, which you predict; 
because I know positively, that you would not allow 
the law to take any such course with me, therefore, I 
feel perfectly safe on that score.” 

Desmond regarded her, for a long minute, white, 
silent, and motionless, as a statute, then he calmly re- 
plied (marveling at his own calmness, and control of 
temper,) “ Leonore ! You are my wife before the world; 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


38 

by all legal ties, also, you are my wife ; by law, I cannot 
ignore or disclaim the legality of the tie, I wish I could. 
But, — understand — you are wife only in name; from 
the hour you forged my honest, and recognized honor- 
able name, you forfeited all claim to my love, my 
respect, my devotion, my vows of allegiance, and pro- 
tection, at the marriage Altar. That I still allow you 
shelter under my father’s roof (not mine) that our 
family tolerates your criminal presence among us, is 
not due to any filial love, or even the slightest sem- 
blance of respect, but, rather from force of circum- 
stances, that prompts us to conceal the identity of a 
felon in our midst, rather than degrade the household, 
by your public exposure; but it may not even remain 
very long in my power to conceal that disgrace. Unless 
this large amount is actually paid into the hands of the 
owners of those baubles, within the specified time on 
that note, not even my voice, or my influence, can save 
you from a prison cell. I have made strenuous efforts, 
to obtain the relief necessary, but have failed signally; 
now take your choice of the issue ; hand over the jewels, 
or go to prison; one or the other is the alternative; I 
shall make no farther effort to shield you.” 

He sat down in the nearest chair, to await her decision. 
She was white to the roots of her dark hair ; and an en- 
tirely new expression, a look of hunted fear, came into 
her beautiful, Spanish face. For a brief time she re- 
mained undecided, then she slowly walked across the 
room, unlocked a secret drawer in her Escritoire, drew 
forth the hidden jewels, and flung the casket in his 
hands. 

“ There ! I wish they were a viper, and would sting 
you to death, before my very eyes ; I assure you I could 
look on with pleasure, at the deadly work.” 

“ No need to assure me of that fact, Leonore ! I can 
readily believe it,” Desmond replied, as he opened the 
rich, velvet case, to be positive that the diamonds were 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


39 


really there. He examined them minutely, comparing 
them with the articles of the bill, to be certain that not 
one of the precious pieces had been omitted, then, with- 
out one word, one backward glance, he left the room, her 
harsh, mocking laughter following his retreating foot- 
steps. 

The firm readily accepted the jewels, on the price 
agreed upon, and, although it greatly lessened the 
mental strain of the last few days, it did not relieve in 
obtaining the large amount, still in arrears. On his 
return from the city, the evening of the day he 
deposited the diamonds with the firm, he found an 
official letter awaiting him, kindly reminding him, that 
the foreign position was ready, and awaiting his 
presence on the time officially appointed. If in mean- 
time, any change of plans had transpired, (which might 
be construed by his late silence) an immediate reply 
was requested. That evening, he had a lengthy inter- 
view with his aged father, in the library, where the 
whole miserable business of the diamond forgery, was 
laid bare, before him; together with his inadequate 
means, his harrassing endeavors to obtain the requisite 
amount, and all the wearying anxiety attending his 
failure, and his utter inability, to any farther avert the 
awful consequences of her act, unless the full amount 
be made good within one week from date. In his 
recital of woe, trouble, and disgrace, nothing was with- 
held of its hideous offence; not even offering the sickly, 
sentimental plea of a wife’s vanity, and repentant 
remorse afterward. But he told it in a manly, straight- 
forward manner, as only a despairing, honorable, and 
good intentional man could. “ My position is positively 
assured, only waiting my actual presence to fill it, and 
the salary is, as you know, very large; but if this blow 
falls upon me, or a public exposure made, I would not 
be allowed to hold it, as it is one of high trust, honor, 
and integrity ; if this should be known, my name would 


40 


THE ANGEL OE THE PINES 


be stricken from the roll, even at the last hour, as one 
totally unfit to hold so responsible a position, and most 
mistakenly appointed. I appeal to you my dear old 
father, to help me if possible, in this my dire extremity, 
my hopeless struggle against a calamity, that is hanging 
heavily over us all.” 

The old gray head was bowed in the trembling hands, 
and a silence followed, that seemed ominous to Des- 
mond, and his future hopes. Finally he raised his 
head, and spoke with an evident effort to take in the 
situation as cheerfully as possible, for his son’s sake. 
“I have not at present, ready funds enough, or even 
collectible on other property, to meet this demand on 
so short a notice; if it were only a little longer time, 
I could easily arrange to meet it. But, my son, I will 
never see you suffer innocently, and especially as you 
are in this case; you have acted nobly all through this 
bitter trial of shame and trouble; and the only cause 
for which I could censure you, even if I would, is that 
you did not come to me earlier in your trouble, that I 
could have aided you in a more efficient manner. But 
do not despair my boy; we will give them a mortgage on 
the old place, (which has never before been burdened 
with one, in all the years of the Sinclair ownership) for 
the balance and with your lucrative position, I have all 
confidence that you will cancel the indebtedness, before 
the mortgage expires. You are a Sinclair, and must 
maintain unsullied, the pride, and honor, of the grand 
old name, and keep in remembrance, the family 
Legend : ” 


“ No stain rests on the race of Sinclair.” 

The young man sprang to his feet; simultaneously, 
both hands were outstretched, and met in a warm, close 
clasp ; “ I will never forget this day, father, as long as 
I live; and never fear, the old Motto, shall never be 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


4i 


tarnished by any act of mine. I will certainly cancel 
this debt on the dear old place, long before the indebted- 
ness is due. You shall never regret this loan, never 
regret giving me your strong, helpful hand, in this 
impending calamity, which might have ended in a 
suicidal death. God forever bless you my father! I 
reverence your gray hairs; your venerable head, your 
stainless life, and example set before me, as I do every- 
thing, pure, and sacred, before high heaven; and I 
shall try to so live, that you will not be ashamed of your 
son, or ever regret this aid.” 

“I am confident of it my son, perfectly confident 
you will do so; and now as the hour is late, I advise 
retiring, that we may both be refreshed and ready for 
the important business awaiting us to-morrow. One 
word more, my boy! better not acquaint mother with 
this business ; it might worry her needlessly, and we can 
get along with it safely enough, I think. She told me 
you had a fear of something happening to Angel! 
What is it, my boy ? can you trust me with it ? ” 

Desmond hesitated slightly, then looked his father 
frankly in the face ; “ If I could not trust you, my hon- 
ored parent, with a mere suspicion, as I have in this 
other, and more weighty matter, who could I trust? I 
fear Leonore is not quite right ; at least not to be trusted 
with our child as she was once ; I think you understand 
my meaning? it may be only my unwarranted fear, but 
whether that fear is well founded or not, I thought best 
to take precautionary measures against any outbreak 
of temper, or ” 

“ I understand your meaning perfectly, my son (you 
need not explain any farther) and I approve the wisdom 
of your intentions in regard to the safety of the child. 
By the way, where do you sleep, Desmond?” and he 
looked at the young man anxiously. 

“ In the front chamber, opening into the upper main 
hall” 


42 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


“ Doors securely fastened before you retire ?” 

“ Always securely locked now, father.” 

“That is wise, my son, under the present circum- 
stances ; I think you had better lock them also, through 
the day, as you have important papers, that might be 
destroyed by irresponsible persons, you know.” 

“Very true, my father, thank you for the sugges- 
tion — I will act upon it; and now good-night. God 
bless you, for the kindest, and best father, a son ever 
had.” He took the old gentleman’s arm affectionately, 
accompanied him to the door leading from the Library 
to the apartments occupied by his parents, and again 
bade him good-night. Then he ascended the back 
stairs, to the passage leading to his own room; he 
did not sit up, as had been his custom of late, brood- 
ing over his troubles, to his father — his best friend — 
the prospect of certain relief to be given in this mat- 
ter, he retired almost happy, and immediately closed 
his tired eyes in sleep. How long he had slept, 
he was only vaguely able to compute, but he awoke by 
hearing voices in low, subdued tones, sometimes 
scarcely above a whisper, on the lawn somewhere near 
the house. The thought of burglars, did not occur to 
him, as they were not much troubled with such unde- 
sirable company, so far out in the country; but tramps 
were frequently seen by residents along the high- 
way. Very softly his feet touched the carpeted floor, 
and very quietly, he approached the open window, where 
he had a full view of the grounds; then he saw two 
figures in the moon-light, moving slowly along the lilac 
terrace, evidently in earnest conversation, not very far 
away. One was a man, rough, and uncouth looking, 
with a very unprepossessing, face, (what part was 
visible beneath the lowered rim of the hat) and the 
other — Great God ! was his eyes deceiving him ? it could 
not be possible — and yet it was — the other, was his 
dainty, beautiful wife, Leonore. He saw her plainly. 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


43 


ere the sharp turn in the terrace walk brought their 
backs toward him, and they disappeared around the 
farther angle of the mansion. Then a moment later, 
he saw the man moving swiftly among the flowers, vault 
the lawn fence, mount a splendid bicycle whose nickel 
trimmings glittered in the full rays of the moon, and 
quickly pass from sight, down the long, shaded country 
road. His first impulse was to surprise, and confront 
them both with his presence, and indignantly demand 
at the muzzle of a revolver, an explanation of the mid- 
night errand of the intruder, on the premises, and the 
presence of his wife in his questionable company at that 
late hour. But a cooler after thought restrained his 
action; the righteous indignation of a husband, might 
not wait for a lame excuse, and with a murderous 
weapon in his hand, consequences might result in a heat 
of passion, which he would regret all his life. He did 
not know the fellow, and he could not imagine what 
plot, or scheme, or possible crime, was being concocted 
between the two. He felt sure that in some way, 
Leonore had been forced to grant him an interview; 
perhaps one of her impecunious countrymen had applied 
to her for money, and backed it up with threats. He 
would not for a moment, entertain a doubt of her spot- 
less honor, or her wifely loyalty. And yet, what was 
the fellow there for? what the conference between the 
two? was the question that would arise constantly in 
his mind, and could not satisfactorily be answered. He 
knew that (in the present strained relations) he would 
obtain no more satisfaction in regard to this interview, 
than he had in previous ones, which he remembered too 
well. But he determined to watch and wait, and if any 
danger, or perilous trouble threatened the dear ones of 
the household, now in peaceful slumber, they must be 
quietly put on their guard, and precautions taken. He 
determined to watch for a second visit of the stranger, 
and then find out positively, the object of his very 


44 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


mysterious call. Long he sat there, pondering over the 
strange occurrence and the seemingly absorbed, and con- 
fidential interview, but all his conjectures, as to the 
why’s and wherefore’s were still unexplainable, and he 
could find no reasonable solution to the enigma. 


[THE ANGEL OF t THE PINES 


45 


CHAPTER Y. 

MORTGAGING THE OLD HOMESTEAD, 

A midnight sky, a moonlight sea, 

And a trackless waste of light 
A hamlet asleep, by the rocky Lee, 

“ With ships that pass in the night.”— Phipps. 

It was not with a very refreshed feeling, or happy 
anticipations of the day’s developments, that Desmond 
arose in the morning; sleep had not visited his eyelids, 
since the mysterious meeting of the stranger, with his 
wife, in the secluded grounds in the midnight hours, 
perhaps even later, (as he did not consult his watch) 
mystified, and troubled him, more than he was willing 
to admit) even to himself. And, although the paying 
of this accursed, and unnecessary debt, was of all 
absorbing interest to him the night before, it had sunk 
into something of secondary interest, beside this inex- 
plicable, unexplainable mystery, ever deepening, tan- 
gible, and yet, illusive. What could be the object, 
important, or otherwise, honorable, or dishonorable, 
that would give this low fellow, an unwarrantable bold- 
ness to intrude upon a gentleman’s private grounds, and 
hold clandestine meetings with his proud, aristocratic 
young wife? She had no brothers, or relatives in this 
country, that he was aware of ; but admitting this even, 
why not come in legitimate hours, and be admitted into 
the house honorably, on a friendly understanding with 
the family? He must think no harm of his beautiful 
wife, even though circumstances were against her, and 
she was wilful, and somewhat daring. Reverently 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


46 

Desmond Sinclair assisted his aged father into the 
family carriage next morning, while the dew was still 
glistening on the lawn shrubbery, and the roadside 
grass, and together they drove to a lawyer's office, where 
the necessary papers were executed, which amply 
insured the jewelry firm for the balance of the debt, and 
relieved Desmond of present anxiety. Desmond had 
dispensed with the coachman on this occasion, and 
coming home, he told his father the singular occurrence 
on the lawn the night before, and asked his opinion, 
and advice. A grave expression appeared on the vener- 
able old face, when his son made known the strange 
disclosures. “ I cannot quite understand it,” he said at 
last, when he had remained silent perplexed, in a 
brown study for some moments. “I cannot interpret 
this unaccountable action of Leonore, any more than 
you, my son; I have always looked upon her as a pure, 
and entirely honorable woman, although, perverse, and 
wilful, and somewhat strange in her actions lately, 
which we both admitted might be due to a little 
mental — (you understand) derangement. I cannot even 
now, think there is anything wrong in this unseemly 
meeting in the grounds at night; I am inclined to be- 
lieve it a demand for money, by some impecunious fel- 
low countryman of hers. Or, perhaps she has applied 
to some acquaintance of hers, for the loan sufficient to 
pay this terrible debt which she knows that she alone is 
responsible for incurring ” 

' A glad light broke over Desmond's gloomy face. 
“ That may be, father ; I had not thought of that ; Poor 
Leonore ! perhaps after all, I have judged her harshly.” 

“ Yes, my son ! I cannot think this meeting, suspicious 
though it may look so, has anything serious, in its inten- 
tion toward our family, or safety in any way; still, it 
would be just as well, to be quietly on our guard, for 
awhile, until farther events prove it unnecessary. It is 
best never to be too hasty: in ou? conclusions, my dear 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


47 


But though the words were intended to comfort 
him and did in a measure, yet they did not wholly 
disarm him of the thought that something was wrong; 
it might be as his father suggested, that Leonore was 
endeavoring to effect a loan, (if so, that would place 
her midnight interview in a more favorable light) but 
he felt vaguely uneasy, and restless; a feeling grew 
upon him, that the household was in danger, or perhaps 
some particular member of it. He could not sensibly 
explain this strange, intuitive feeling of danger, lurking 
over them all, any more than he could divest himself 
of the thought that the real peril menaced him, or his 
darling child, the light of his eyes, more than the 
others. He determined to take more precautionary 
measures, in regard to the child, and watchful vigilance 
over the dear inmates of the old Manor. That night 
in his wakeful hours, he tried to invent some scheme, 
by which Leonore could be closely watched, without the 
knowledge of any one, except his parents; but he dis- 
missed one after the other, each plan that presented 
itself as not being practical, or advisable. He was ill 
at ease; turn the scene in whatever light he would, he 
could not but view it with suspicion and alarm. 

The time of his departure on his foreign Embassy, was 
drawing very near; he was sincerely glad that it was; 
his mind relieved of the burden that had weighed him 
down for weeks, he could enter upon the responsible 
duties of his position, with a happy cheerfulness, for 
with its lucrative salary, he saw a speedy way of 
repaying his debt of gratitude, and finances, to his 
dear old father, for his royal aid just in the nick of 
time, and thus set him on his feet, financially, and 
honorably. 

In the library, one morning, in a private inter- 
view with his father, low toned, and quiet, he out- 
lined his plans in regard to Leonore. “ I shall take 
her with me of course; but once across the water, I 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


48 

shall send her with an escort, straight to her father’s 
house, with a legal assurance of maintenance the rest 
of her lifetime. But I have resolved that she can never 
live under my protection, as my wife; she has almost 
ruined me here, and I should never feel entirely safe 
from another outbreak of some nature, on her part. 
My little girl, I will leave with my dear father and 
mother, knowing that she is not only safe, but also, 
that she is reared in purity, and honest} 7 , with the sur- 
roundings, and example, that has made their sons, and 
daughters, an honor to them.” 

Soon after this interview, they left the library, and 
Leonore’s maid, also emerged from behind the heavy 
draperies, with a very knowing look, and proceeded with 
a cautious step to her mistress’ apartments. Driscol had 
orders from Desmond, to prepare, and pack her mis- 
tress’ wardrobe, in time, that all would be in readiness 
at an early date. All important events were arranged, 
and everything seemed to be moving along serenely ; then 
one night, piercing screams, suddenly aroused the 
family; soon, lights were flashing from every window, 
all over the big, roomy old house. 

The cause of the strange disturbance, at that late 
hour, was quickly located; it proceeded from the 
house-keeper’s apartments, where she was found pale, 
trembling, and almost frightened to death. She said 
she was awakened by some one approaching noiselessly, 
and shadow like, in the dim light of the night lamp, 
in her sleeping room, and suddenly attempting to snatch 
the sleeping child Lillian, from her arms. She declared 
she had positively fastened the doors securely, before 
retiring, as was her custom, and more especially since — 
She stopped speaking abruptly, but giving Desmond, 
and the elderly couple a significant look, which they 
interpreted correctly, the subject was temporarily 
dropped. 

They examined the strong fastenings of the doors, 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


49 


and found them perfectly intact, but which the 
worthy woman said the intruder left wide open, in her 
hasty flight, making considerable noise, for she stumbled 
against a chair, where it still lay, upset upon the floor. 

“Was it a man, or a woman?” Desmond asked in a 
voice which he vainly endeavored to render steady. 

“I could not say,” the house-keeper answered, still 
very much agitated. “ There were two of them ; but it 
was all so sudden, and acted so swiftly, and they disap- 
peared in such a flash when I screamed, that it was 
impossible to tell who they were for certain. One of 
them was tall and slim, the other I think was shorter, 
and I am positive they both were long loose cloaks.” 

“ Very extraordinary,” said the old gentleman, 
emphatically. “ Most unaccountable occurrence indeed ! 
Did you not see the faces of either of these persons at 
all, my good woman?” 

“ No I did not; (and that seems the strangest part of 
the circumstance to me) for while they passed swiftly 
before the light, I could note the clothes were dark, I 
could not see a bit of their faces; they seemed to be 
enveloped in black, from head to foot.” 

“ Most extraordinary event that ever happened in our 
family,” repeated the gray haired man. “I cannot 
account for it ; or give any rational reason, why any one 
should have designs upon the (child,) or attempt to 
kidnap her.” 

Kidnap the child? All at once, that seemed to solve 
the mystical problem. No violence was then intended to 
the portly house-keeper, yet it was apparent to all, that 
Angel Lillian was the object, and was thus in danger 
of another visit in the future; for, although the mis- 
creants were foiled in this attempt, they might be ex- 
pected to make another, when they would probably be 
more successful. 

Desmond constituted himself, a vigilant, and fearless 
body guard, the balance of the night, at the outer door 


50 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


of the house-keeper’s wing, revolver in hand, ready for 
instant use. 

Did that lonely sentinel, divine, and decide in his 
own mind, who the midnight abductors were ? perhaps ! 
but he gave no sign. While he stood there, in the 
shadow, a grim, and silent watcher, keenly alert, for any 
sight, or sound, the household had settled down in 
temporary rest, had serenity once more. 

Mrs. Ashley declared it was no use to go to bed, for she 
knew “ she would’ent sleep another wink ’til mornin’,” 
but whether she did or not, no one ever inquired. The 
servants were more terribly frightened than any one else; 
and, added to their very reasonable fear, was a negro 
superstition, inborn, and strengthened with their years 
of growth, and understanding, that some supernatural 
“ bogy,” or invisible power, brought about by the 
“ Cunger woman,” was in their midst, prowling around 
the premises at night, and they huddled together and 
quaked in fear in their small cabins. Only the positive 
knowledge of their young master’s presence near them, 
during those long, lonely hours, allayed their fears, and 
partially succeeded in quieting them ’til morning. But 
nothing more happened that night; nothing was heard 
but the usual and ordinary sounds of bird, or insect 
life, on a country farm. Some tender mother bird, 
soothing with a crooning note, her baby nestlings 
beneath her wings; the near chirrup of a cricket; the 
musical contradiction of the Katy-did’s, or the distant 
hoot of the night owl, mellowed, and softened, did not 
in the least have a disturbing sound. 

It could not be expected otherwise, than that the 
adventure of the night before, would be the all absorb- 
ing topic of conversation at the breakfast table next 
morning; as Leonore had insisted on taking her meals 
in her private sitting room, since the day of the last 
decidedly unpleasant interview between herself, and 
Desmond, immediately after the Ambassador’s ball, she 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


5i 

was not present the morning when the subject was 
alluded to. 

“ Bid you notice that Leonore, and her maid were the 
only ones of the assembled household who were not pres- 
ent, last night? Very significant fact, under the cir- 
cumstances ; don’t you think so, father ? ” 

“ Hush ! don’t speak so openly, my son,” said the old 
gentleman, looking around cautiously, as though he 
feared the lady in question might be hidden some- 
where, and surprise them by springing out of her con- 
cealment.” 

“Oh! there is no danger of Leonore joining us 
father; she is very exclusive just now, you know; takes 
her refreshments at a private table, in her suite of 
rooms.” 

“ As you say, it was rather a noticeable fact that she 
was not present, when there was so much noise and 
confusion ; still, that may be easily accounted for. She 
may not have awakened. You know the housekeeper’s 
wing is quite remote from the part of the house, where 
her rooms are located.” 

“ I am very well aware of that, father, but I wish I 
could look at that circumstance, in the same light that 
you do; there were two persons, trying to commit a 
crime last night in the housekeeper’s rooms; every one 
on the premises were present, excited, frightened, and 
panic stricken, — save two. Why? I did a good deal 
of hard thinking last night, in the long silent hours of 
watching, and I was against my will, forced to but one 
conclusion.” 

The old man was silent for a moment, then he replied 
slowly, and with an evident intention to be on his guard. 

“ As long as we can prove nothing my son, absolutely 
nothing, we will accuse no one ; let us think as leniently 
as possible, of the ones whom we might suspect ; Charity 
hurts no one you know. But laying all sentiment 
aside, there is a strange mystery in regard to last night’s 
occurrence; and X can see only one object in it ” 


52 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


“What does that object appear to be, father?” 

“ Intent to kidnap Angel ; but why, or for what pur- 
pose, and who the party can possibly be, is what per- 
plexes me sorely. I thought we had not an enemy, in 
the whole wide world; I have so lived with my neigh- 
bors, and friends at large, yes, and even with my 
servants, that I was confident that I held the good will 
of every man, woman and child, in the surrounding 
country.” 

“ So you do, father ! there is no one more respected, 
loved, or honored, as far distant as your name is known, 
than yourself; but it is not against you, that this out- 
rage was directed.” 

“No? Who then. Surely not Mrs. Ashley? she 
neither could, or would harm any living creature.” 

“I will explain my meaning later, when we are 
alone,” said Desmond, for just at that moment, a servant 
entered, and they arose from the table. Seated in the 
Library later, Desmond outlined to his father, in low 
tones, his own idea of the seeming mystery, and its 
evident object. He described that part of the conver- 
sation he had with his wife, where he declared he would 
send her back to her father, avoiding the scandal, and 
publicity of a separation, but that the edict was final, 
and irrevocable, that she was no more to be his wife, and 
no more to have the care or custody of his child; he 
would give her into the guardianship of some one more 
competent. Soon after this interview, that fellow made 
his appearance in the grounds, walking, and talking 
very confidentially with my proud, aristocratic wife, 
at a late hour. Then the attack in Mrs. Ashley’s 
domain, last night, the determined grasp of the child, 
the black masked outlines of the two persons, the swift 
exit, and accurate knowledge of the premises, and sur- 
roundings, all point to but one conclusion; either with 
aid, or without, Leonore will prevent, if she can, my 
retaining possession of Lillian, if I keep my word, and 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


53 

succeed in sending her to her Spanish home. She 
knows that act would convey an unspoken disgrace, to 
all who became cognizant of the fact.” 

“But who can possibly be the other outside aid you 
speak of ? ” asked his father ; “ her acquaintances here, 
are only among our very select circle, and certainly, no 
one with whom we associate, would lend themselves, to 
so atrocious a plot.” 

“ I fear you do not really understand all the resource- 
ful possibilities of the situation, father. There are a 
great many foreigners in this country, in different 
vocations in life who for a few dollars, would commit 
any crime. It need not necessarily be one of her own 
countrymen; an individual of any country would suit 
the purpose just as well, providing the right one could 
be secured, and an ample fee given for the work to be 
accomplished. 

His father was visibly agitated. “ How could she 
possibly come in contact with such a person as you de- 
scribe; and where did she get acquainted with the one 
you saw in the grounds lately ? ” he asked. 

“ I am as much puzzled as yourself,” his son 
answered. “ She has very often gone out in the car- 
riage with the maid, leaving the groom in charge, until 
they returned from making purchases, which was all 
eminently proper, and correct. But lately I recall, she 
has many times gone alone with the light phaeton, 
coming home hours after, but the incident was too 
trivial to notice; I do not like to think my wife would 
stoop to questionable acquaintance with any one, but 
the question asks itself, again, and again. Who was 
this fellow in the grounds, and who was the foiled 
abductor of my child? The question is asked, and 
remains unanswered ; but in view of the recent outrage, 
it assumes a local coloring. With a definite object in 
view, with the probability of being returned to her 
foreign home in disgrace, she had plenty of oppor- 


54 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


trinities for seeing this man, or any other villain, with 
whom to concoct the diabolical plot, to abduct our dar- 
ling, and make good her own escape also. Do you follow 
the line of reasoning, father ? ” 

A grave, exceedingly sad, and perplexed expression, 
rested upon the kind old face of the still handsome, and 
dignified listener. He nodded his head reflectively, but 
spoke not for several minutes; finally he said quietly, 
as though slowly answering his own thoughts, instead 
of responding to the questioning voice. 

“Yes, my son, I follow, and understand, and admit 
the full force of the reasoning and it pains me beyond 
words to express, the bare possibility, that Leonore could 
descend to such depths of infamy ; but we do not know 
that she has; this is all idle conjecture! and in the 
absence of positive proof, let us give the erring woman, 
the benefit of a doubt; for you know my son, that — 
Charity covereth a multitude of sins.” 

“ Amen 1 ” assented the younger man. 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


55 


CHAPTER VI. 

STRANGE HAPPENINGS. — LEONORE’S UNEXPLAINABLE 
ACTIONS. 

“ And the solemn Owl, with a weird-ho-ho 
Settles down on the end of the Old Canoe.” 

The time had come when Desmond was to take his 
departure for his distant post in a foreign land ; the two 
large trunks, (his own, and Leonore’s) together with the 
usual small grips, were waiting in the great hall, near 
the door. On the evening of the next day, they were to 
take the fast Express, to the Metropolis, where the im- 
posing new ship, Ocean Queen, was lying at her moor- 
ings, in which was booked the luxurious passage of him- 
self, and beautiful, but estranged young wife. A deep 
sadness and depression that was felt, but not expressed 
in words, rested upon the entire household. True, the 
actual farewells were left ’til the last minute, but never- 
theless, it had been a sad farewell for the last few days ; 
Desmond could scarcely keep away from his child’s side, 
the limited time he had to be with her, for he knew a 
long, long time would elapse before he would see her 
again. And he so loved the winsome, lovely child; he 
seemed to centre his affections upon her, in proportion 
as he was estranged from his wife; she would probably 
be a young lady before he returned to his native land 
again. “ God guard you pure and sweet, my Angel, 
pure and sweet as a white lily, with the morning dew 
upon it, my little one, while your father is away,” he 
whispered over her, as he caressed her one of these 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


56 

waiting days, kissing the golden curls, the dainty white 
shoulders, and even the tiny, tapering fingers. 

“ I leave her a precious charge in your watchful and 
tender care,” he said to his parents, on one of these fare- 
well conferences. “ I know you will be faithful to your 
trust; as your sons and daughters were reared and re- 
flected honor and credit upon you, by their clean records, 
so I know my little one will also be reared, and live in 
stainless purity, her secluded young life, under your 
protecting love and care; and I depart on this long ab- 
sence, perfectly content and satisfied, in regard to her 
safety in every way.” 

It was late, when he parted with his parents and re- 
tired to his room the last night he was to pass under the 
dear old roof, perhaps, for many years; there had been 
numberless items to arrange ; so much to say to the dear 
old couple, and now, though he was weary, mentally and 
physically, and needed rest, yet he could not sleep, and 
lay long awake, thinking how bright his future pros- 
pects were, and how happy he might be, only for this 
dark blight on his life, the utter treachery, deceit, and 
falsehood of Leonore, which had led him into so much 
scarcely averted trouble. And above all, her heartless 
attack on — he stopped, resolutely shut his teeth; he 
would not admit even to himself, the thought that was 
almost clothed in words. But he could not deny that 
there had been many very suspicious circumstances 
lately that pointed directly to her; many strange, and 
unaccountable happenings, that could not be explained 
away by either philosophy or sophistry, and — well, he 
had not now, and never would have the love, and con- 
fidence in her that he had once. They were sad thoughts 
and a sad domestic problem, uncertain too, of its solv- 
ing, on this, his last farewell of the old home life and 
associations ; his last look of moonlit lawn, of bud, and 
tree, and blossom, refreshed by the soft wandering 
breeze over all the lovely panorama of the summer land- 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


57 

scape lying in the hushed beauty of the night before 
him. 

At the late breakfst the next morning, among the 
batch of letters brought by the boy dispatched to the 
office for the mail, was a long, official envelope, adorned 
with a large red seal, and a foreign postmark, addressed 
to Desmond Sinclair. He recognized at a glance that 
it was from the country to which he was so soon to em- 
bark on his long journey. Wondering, and somewhat 
puzzled at receiving this letter (as he had so lately writ- 
ten them of the date of his final departure) he broke 
the seal and read the words which nearly turned him to 
stone : 

“ Regretting very much your decision, at this late 
hour, to resign the responsibility and lucrative position 
offered you, and which you seemed very anxious to ob- 
tain a few weeks since, we must of course acquiesce with 
your wishes, and have therefore already appointed a suc- 
cessor in your place. Yours, etc.” 

He sat perfectly motionless ; no word or sign escaped 
his silent, white, drawn lips ; his head drooped forward, 
the letter fell from his nerveless hand, and he would 
have fallen to the floor in an insensible condition, had 
not his father, (alarmed at his sudden and peculiar ac- 
tions) sprung to his side and caught the swaying, reel- 
ing body, and with the aid of the butler, carried him to 
a couch in the library. Of course there was great ex- 
citement and consternation, both over the sudden pros- 
tration of the son, and the unexplainable contents of the 
letter. Lying weak, and helpless in bed, in the large 
airy chamber he had occupied of late, he reiterated 
again, and again, in agonized earnestness, that he had 
never written to resign the diplomatic office, and could 
not conjecture by whom it was written, nor for what pur- 
pose, unless with wilful and malicious intent to defraud 
him of its pecuniary benefits ; and he could think of no 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


58 

one whom he would be willing to accuse of so heinous a 
crime. However, it was too late now to enter into a 
correspondence denying the alleged resignation, or to 
endeavor to reinstate himself in his lost position; the 
closing words of the letter had made such an attempt 
useless; another had been appointed in his stead. Yet 
he had a legitimate right to demand the letter of resig- 
nation, purporting to have been written by him over his 
own signature, and he determined to do so; and more- 
over, if he was so fortunate as to discover the criminal by 
the characters of the writing, he would punish him as 
severely as he deserved. 

"If it was upon myself alone, this heavy blow had 
fallen, I could bear it better,” he said to his old father, 
who sat by his bedside the next day, and they could con- 
verse together alone. “ But it is upon yourself also, my 
dear father, that this terrible calamity has fallen, and 
even with greater force than upon myself; I not only 
could, but would have soon placed you and the old 
Manor, beyond one dollar’s indebtedness, and laid by a 
few thousand besides. Now I know not which way to 
turn, or what plan to pursue.” 

“ Do not weary yourself by useless mental torture, or 
weaken your physical state by the same means,” cau- 
tioned the dear, comforting old father. "No reproach 
attaches to you for this ; no act of yours has brought this 
unseen trouble to pass ; it is the evil work of a dastardly 
coward, striking the cruel blow in the dark, because he 
was too craven to attack openly.” 

" Yes ! and he struck where most vulnerable just now ; 
and where the wound would not heal without leaving a 
life-long scar,” added Desmond with feeling. 

The old man bowed his gray head. “ Yes that is true 
enough, true enough,” he answered. “ But do not worry 
now; let this pass for the present, until you are fully 
recovered from this indisposition; some way will be 
opened out of the difficulties which seem to beset us so 


59 


THE ANGEL 0E THE PINES 

sorely at present, and when yon are on yonr feet once 
more we will both press this matter vigorously, in an 
endeavor to find the author of this crime ; and when we 
have found him we will press his punishment to the rig- 
orous extent of the law.” 

“ Amen to that,” said Desmond, and their hands met 
in the silent compact. 

It was only a matter of a few days when he had quite 
recovered his temporary illness and was himself again, 
except that a grave sadness rested upon him, which 
seemed to have prematurely aged and sorrowed the gay, 
handsome, debonair young man. Then, with his fath- 
er’s aid and advice, he began to trace carefully, and 
surely, the secret author of his present misery and finan- 
cial misfortune. To his earnest, manly letters, sent to 
the foreign office, declaring his entire innocence in re- 
gard to the resignation of the position, on which he had 
so entirely depended, and his ignorance as to the author 
of the forged letter, (for forged it certainly was) and 
asking for Its return, he received only the stereotyped, 
courteous reply, which seemed to be final, but extremely 
•unsatisfying : “ They could not enlighten him as to the 
writer ; they only knew they received the letter of resig- 
nation, apparently in his own hand-writing, and signed 
by his name in full ; the letter referred to they thought 
was destroyed, or possibly mislaid. But Desmond knew 
this last was only a ruse, intended to silence him. Then 
he wrote again, this time to a different official, demand- 
ing the forged letter, the demand strengthened by his 
father’s signature also. All this circuitous work took 
time; days of slow and torturing suspense must elapse 
before the return of the ocean mail; but both awaited 
with an impatience they could scarcely curb, this later 
development, this supreme test, which they hoped would 
not fail to expose and criminate the villain which they 
would move heaven and earth to bring to justice, and 
push, with legal force, to just punishment when once 


6o 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


captured. There would be no mockish sentiment on 
their part to pardon; no soft hearted weakness over 
maudlin tears, or after repentance. The law, stern, and 
pitiless, should have its way with no recommendation of 
mercy to soften the severity of the verdict. This was the 
tacit understanding between the elder and the younger 
man, though no words definitely expressed this purpose. 

Desmond’s heart was exceedingly sore over this great 
wrong done him by the treacherous hand of — who? 
Yes, that was ever the unsatisfactory question asked 
with its equally unsatisfactory and unsolved answer, 
like an echo, — who? 

Meantime, Leonore, more radiantly beautiful than, 
ever, bright and sparkling, seemed suspiciously happy 
at the sudden termination of the journey, not troubling 
herself in the least, as to the cause, never tendering a 
word of sympathy to her almost distracted husband, 
(they were still as estranged as ever,) yet she no longer 
secluded herself in the privacy of her luxurious rooms, 
but dined with the family as usual, roamed about, drove 
out with the carriage and horses or phaeton, and re- 
turned when it pleased her own sweet will, as though 
the even tenor of events had never been broken by any 
unpleasantness. She made no attempt to seek Angel, 
who was jealously and vigilantly guarded since the 
strange attack; she would merely ask indifferently at 
times, if she was well, yet appeared carelessly satisfied 
with whatever answer she received. She did, however, 
evince a decided satisfaction, when her beautiful dresses 
were once more transferred from the big trunks to the 
respective places in the many large closets and presses 
by the willing maid, apparently happy with her sur- 
roundings, and blissfully content with the turn affairs 
had taken ; sometimes, a smile on her lip, a strange glitter 
in her eye, that often awed and repelled one, yet gracious 
and kind to his parents, even though not to her husband, 
she was a daily puzzle, a human enigma, that was past 
earthly solving. 


lTHE ANGEL OF THE PINES 6i 

In this manner, the hinges of the household moved 
along, if not oiled exactly to the satisfaction of all con- 
cerned, yet there was no visible or outward friction, 
until one morning, after some weeks had elapsed, an- 
other official envelope was placed in Desmond’s hands, 
and was immediately opened in the seclusion of the 
library, in the presence of the two most interested mem- 
bers of the family besides himself, — his aged parents. 
The letter itself contained but few words, but the thun- 
derbolt which was enclosed within, was a letter couched 
in the most unmistakable terms and language of a 
polite, but firm, resignation of the position which he had 
so ardently hoped to obtain, and so happily accepted, 
when given him at last. The proof, the forged letter, 
was before them, and the villain must be hunted down 
and brought to the punishment he merited as speedily 
as possible. Somewhere, in this part of the country, he 
must be lurking, since the letter was written here, mak- 
ing him responsible for its contents; the envelope was 
missing, so it could not be ascertained where it was post- 
marked. It is useless to attempt to describe the con- 
flicting emotions of the three ; wonder, indignation, and 
alternate speculation as to the venomous author, and 
the cause of his apparent enmity. Although a former 
letter had vouched that it was in his own hand-writing, 
yet it was as different from Desmond’s chirography 
upon comparison as darkness and light ; he wrote a large, 
free, frank hand, that was characteristic of his dispo- 
sition, open, honest, and fearless, with no crooked turns, 
indicating deceit, or treachery. This was a fine, grace- 
ful, flowing style, with, nevertheless, curious peculi- 
arities running through it. The three indignant, wholly 
mystified ones, as they sat there holding a counsel of 
war, realized entirely the difficult task before them, in 
tracing, and ultimately capturing the consciousless 
scoundrel, who had wrought all this misery ; but with 
this clue in their possession, the older, and the younger 


6 2 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


man, were now more fully determined than ever to 
prosecute the search and allow no obstacle whatever to 
bar them from positive conviction and punishment of 
the bold offender. They did not employ the services of 
a detective, as they wished to avoid all suspicion and no- 
toriety that might be directed to the house by that 
means ; with this intent they managed to quietly and se- 
cretly, examine the writing of a great number of people. 
Some were suspects with more or less blemished reputa- 
tions ; others were seemingly respectable, but with no ap- 
parent means of living. The test was also applied, with 
the result, that in every instance the resemblance was 
found lacking entirely. This singular detective business 
had been progressing, with more or less unfavorable re- 
sults, when (as is often the case in very important 
trials) an accident betrayed the identity of the forger 
of the letter, and destroyer of the peace of the house- 
hold. 


l the angel of the pines 


63 


CHAPTEK VII. 

STRANGE DEVELOPMENTS. THE FORGER IS DETECTED. 

The wreck submerged, on the heaving sands ; 

The salt waves sweeping o’er, 

Unwept, unsung, unmoumed for now 
Lost— lost— forever more.— Phipps. 

It so happened one morning, that Desmond, looking 
through his private desk for an important document be- 
longing to his father, relative to some business tran- 
sacted for him some time previous, (the date of which it 
was necessary to prove) accidentally unearthed a bundle 
of old letters, securely tied and hidden away in a secret 
drawer of that ancient desk, for how long a time, he 
did not know. Somewhat puzzled as to the identity of 
the letters, and what they contained, he unfastened the 
cord, and they scattered over the desk. He picked up a 
few and began an examination, when lo! they proved 
to be the loving missives of Leonore, written to him in 
the happy days of their early courtship, when love was 
warm and trust was loyal and true, in the tidal events 
across the sea, in that tropical land, where the sunshine 
glittered and fell among the fruits and flowers. 

A long, troubled sigh escaped him, a sigh of deep re- 
gret, as he compared the sunny, beautiful past of those 
idyllic hours with the gloomy, gloomy present. He did 
not intend to read them, he was too earnestly intent on 
the search for the important paper in which he was par- 
ticularly interested just then; but he did pick up at 
random, and read one or two, of the once precious mis- 
sives. Very soon he was absorbed in their loving con- 
tents, so beautifully expressed in the language of the 


64 THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 

soft, sunny clime of Spain; written, too, by one of 
Spain’s fairest, and most marvelously beautiful daugh- 
ters. He leaned his head wearily on his hand, and his 
absorbed meditations were long and painful; oh, if she 
was only like that now, he communed aloud. So sweet 
and loving, so altogether sinless and innocent; appar- 
ently no guile, no deceit, or intrigue in her nature, and 
now — oh my God! he moaned aloud; now how widely 
different. What depths of misery she has brought upon 
us all by her treachery and falseness; then, I could 
never have believed it possible that she could have so 
changed, or so deceived me. She was so fascinating and 
beautiful, and so lovable then, and is besides the mother 
of my innocent child, (the Angel of my life). I must 
not forget that, no matter what other bitter memories 
are aroused by her falsehood and perfidy, at the present 
time, she is still my wife and the mother of my darling, 
and as such, is entitled to my protection at least, if no 
longer worthy of my love and trust. His retrospective 
reverie was bitter and the silence that followed was long 
and deep. His mental prospects were not very alluring, 
nor the pictures very cheerful or satisfactory. Finally 
he aroused himself to continue the interrupted search 
for the missing document, and began to gather up the 
scattered letters. Something unaccountably stayed his 
hand quite suddenly; he gazed like one under a mystic 
spell ; rubbed his eyes and looked intently again. WTiere 
had he seen hand-writing similar to that in some other 
place, and under widely different circumstances? His 
gaze was riveted on the writing and formation of the 
characters, which were a little peculiar, then he suddenly 
arose, walked over to a letter receptacle, and took there- 
from a long, official envelope, with a foreign, blood-red 
seal stamped upon it, drew out the contents and laid 
them side by side, with wide open startled eyes ; one long, 
steady, scrutinizing gaze, then the fair blonde head 
dropped upon his suddenly weakened arms, lying upon. 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 65 

the desk ; he had found the proof of the forger of the for- 
eign letter dismissing him from the office, and the crim- 
inal who had penned the fatal letter upon whom they had 
invoked the stern vengeance of the law, when caught, 
stood revealed at last, and it was — Leonore. Words fail 
to describe his feelings upon this awful discovery. 
Had the criminal been a man, no matter what his posi- 
tion or social standing, there would have been a speedy 
arrest and a punishment demanded befitting the crime of 
a forger and criminal law breaker. He would have aided 
the strong arm of the law to deal out to the prisoner 
the extreme verdict on such occasions, without one plea 
for mercy or clemency. But now — oh God of mercy and 
tardy justice ! What could he do but remain — silent. 

No farther pursuit of the criminal was necessary; the 
true one was found, who had so heartlessly wrecked his 
brilliant prospects, brought on all this wretchedness and 
woe, and almost ruined his old gray-haired father finan- 
cially. Oh Leonore ! Leonore ! faith and trust and wifely 
honor forever gone, his life ruined, what had he to live 
for now ? We would mercifully draw a veil on this scene 
and its gloomy aspect ; on the sudden nightmare of hor- 
ror unspeakable, and strong indignation that stirred to 
its very center, the soul of Desmond Sinclair, at this 
farther discovery of his wife’s perfidy and treachery, 
which this writing seemed to indicate, and if confirmed 
positively, would reveal his dainty, beautiful wife, a de- 
tected forger, and daring law-breaker, and he her hus- 
band, powerless to prosecute or obtain redress. Now, 
many events that had transpired lately, and were hid- 
den in impenetrable mystery were gradually clearing to 
his mental vision; he could see the motive in certain 
transactions, and the conclusive cause and effect which 
followed. But what distressed him more than all else, 
was the certainty of the cunning brain that planned, and 
the soft white hand that obeyed the dark behests of the 
Master who held the key to the situation. How long he 


66 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


sat there he did not know ; his thoughts, centered on this 
terribly disgraceful situation, almost crushed him, to 
think it was his (once dearly loved wife) who had de- 
scended to such depths of depravity and crime, as to 
become a common felon, nearly crazed him. The dinner 
bell rang but he did not heed its silvery tones, and when 
a servant brought the message that the table waited, he 
only answered, with the request that his father would 
come to him as soon as he had dined. 

When his venerable father made his appearance he 
looked anxiously at the pale, haggard face before him, 
with the impress of a new woe upon it. “ My son ! my 
son! what has happened? what new trouble has come 
upon you now ? ” he asked, the trembling tones betray- 
ing the anxiety he felt. 

“ Sit down, father,” and he arose and brought the 
easy chair for him, “ while I explain, if I can, a shock- 
ing discovery I have just made ; I have found the forger 
for whom we have both been searching so secretly and 
quietly.” 

“ You have, my son? do you mean you have really dis- 
covered at last the real criminal ? ” 

“ I have, my father, I know to a certainty the writer 
of that letter and it is — oh my God ! how can I tell you, 
the forger, to whom we vowed to show no mercy or 
clemency, is — is — my wife — Leonore ” 

The anguished young face with its suffering expres- 
sion, was turned toward him for a moment, then was 
hid on the outstretched arms upon the desk. The old 
man rose excitedly from his chair, with the one word 
— “ Leonore? Impossible” wrung in trembling tones 
from his white lips but he sank into the chair again 
when he noticed the sorrowful position of the quiet fig- 
ure, so eloquent of silent heartbreak and utter weari- 
ness. A strong desire to comfort and sympathize with 
the bruised heart and wounded pride of this dear son of 
his old age, the last proud scion of the house of Sinclair, 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


67 

predominated now in the mind of the dear old father, 
to the exclusion (for the present) of everything else. 

“ Do not give way like this, my boy ; brace up, and 
give me all the facts in the case, the positive proofs you 
have, for making so grave a charge; there must be a 
great mistake somewhere. I cannot think Leonore could 
possibly do quite so heinous a crime as this, impulsive 
and passionate as we know her to be sometimes.” 

The young man raised his head. “ You are the very 
best of fathers ; kind and lenient for the faults of others ; 
always disposed to mercy, and forbearance toward every 
one, whether they deserve it or not, but look at that 
writing, (pushing a letter toward him) and then look 
at this letter, returned from the foreign office, purport- 
ing to have been written by me ; study the peculiar for- 
mation, notice the curves and sharp angles, with no pre- 
tence of disguise whatever, and then draw your own con- 
clusions. I think I have before me the conclusive and 
undeniable proof. I wish I could doubt it, but I can- 
not. Head, compare, and judge for yourself,” and he 
pushed the papers before him. His father mechanically 
picked up the official paper, read it as he had once be- 
fore when it first arrived, then the enclosed original let- 
ter of resignation, which had so puzzled them all at the 
time, and finally reached for the loving note of Leonore’s 
which lay there like an avenging, incriminating witness, 
and compared the two. He almost sprang to his feet, 
in his strong excitement, then controlled himself with an 
evident effort, and again read and compared the writing 
of the two, very earnestly the keen eyes of the son watch- 
ing him intently, the while. Then the slow, trembling 
tones said very sorrowfully, This is indeed, an awful 
revelation, my poor boy. I do not wonder that it came 
upon you like a thunderbolt, stunning and crushing in 
its awful force.” 

“Then, you too, are convinced, my father, that the 
writing is that of Leonore ? ” 


68 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


“ The chirography of the two are identical,” replied 
the old man sadly. “ I cannot deny it if I would ; and it 
needs no expert service to prove it, I regret to say. I am 
very glad now that we did not put the matter into the 
hands of a detective, skilled or otherwise, for a success- 
ful culmination would have been beyond our power to 
stay, and the exposure to our family pride and social 
standing would have been unendurable.” 

“ What would you advise ? ” Desmond asked with emo- 
tion. 

The gentle old man did not answer readily, but sat 
with his gray head supported on his hands, in deep and 
silent thought for some minutes. At last he slowly an- 
swered : “ If it was a man we had to deal with, my boy, 
I would not hesitate one instant to say, we could, and 
would, probably, punish him to the extreme limit of the 
law; but as it is a woman, and with all, your wife, 
we ■” 

“ I beg your pardon, my dear father, for interrupting 
you, but I can readily divine what you would say, and I 
ask you, with all due respect to your years, for differing 
with you, have we not borne all we possibly can, you and 
I, even though the culprit be a woman and a member of 
our household? The same hand forged my name for 
the diamonds, for which this grand old place is in peril 
to-day; the same hand has, through heartless intent, 
and malicious purpose, deprived me of the only means 
by which I could discharge this indebtedness and save 
the old place, and the family honor unspotted from the 
knowledge of the world. That is not all ; as you know ; 
she has made a bold attempt to kidnap Lillian also, or 
connived with some villain to accomplish the feat for 
her. I ask you, my father, can we in all reason, be ex- 
pected to patiently bear with her any longer? She has 
brought all this unnecessary trouble and misery upon 
us ; she will bring more. She will not stop now ; it is not 
in her nature to do so. She will continue committing 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 69 

more crimes, whenever an opportunity offers. If she 
cannot be legally punished, because she is a woman, 
(and the law should make no discrimination between the 
sexes, for the same misdemeanor) then some way must 
be suggested and carried into immediate execution, in 
which her liberty and her criminal tendencies can alike 
be controlled or confined.” 

“ You put it in a strong light, my boy, very strong. 
While I don't uphold or condone, in one little whit or 
tittle any one of the flagrant acts, yet the natural chiv- 
alry of a gentleman would suggest mercy and forbear- 
ance.” 

“ When has she ever shown mercy or leniency toward 
us ? ” asked the impetuous and indignant young man. 
“Has she hesitated to imperil your home, or risk the 
law turning into the street, homeless and roofless, you, 
and my dear old gray-haired mother, simply to gratify 
her inordinate craving for dress and display? Words 
cannot too strongly portray the present evil effects of 
her wrong doing, or the amount of mental suffering she 
has caused us all; as you remarked once before, if it 
were a man instead of one of the gentler sex, you would 
not suggest a very merciful punishment.” 

The old gentleman was thoughtful and silent ; he was 
sorely perplexed and puzzled, as to the manner of an- 
swer to make to his son's impassioned appeal, the truth 
and sense of which his own heart acknowledged. Finally 
he asked : — “ In what particular manner would you con- 
trol Leonore's liberty, as you suggested a few moments 
ago, my son ? ” 

“ Well, father, I have thought, since making the dis- 
covery this morning, that it would be wise to confine her 
absolutely within her own suite of rooms ; to give her no 
freedom of the grounds, no use of the carriage, allow no 
absences whatever, from the place, unless some one per- 
fectly reliable accompanied her. She could easily plunge 
us into farther ruin, or jeopardize the lives and safety 


70 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


of the entire family. I feel convinced that there is now, 
no limit to her criminal lawlessness, and no security, 
either in her presence or her absence.” 

“ Yes ! I appreciate the force of your argument. Al- 
though these things have been transpiring at different 
periods, I have never given them the active thought as 
now, because they have never before been brought so 
forcibly to my mind, as in the present moment. I cer- 
tainly realize that something must be done to finally re- 
strain her, and that too, without delay. What you sug- 
gest might be feasible, since we cannot confine her in 
any Institute for criminals, and we would not wish to, 
even if we could. While isolating her in her own rooms 
against her will, (pleasant though they are) is very 
good in theory, yet it will probably be accomplished 
with considerable difficulty, since she has a maid, you 
know, of the same nationality, and just as wily as her- 
self.” 

w Yes ! I know and have thought of that also, while 
pondering over the puzzling situation ; father it is an all 
around problem, not easily solved.” 

“ Will you have an interview with Leonore, acquaint- 
ing her with your convictions of her guilt ? ” 

“ I must ! much as I dread the necessary ordeal, yet 
the interview must be had, and I must endure its dis- 
agreeable nature, because I would not feel that the after 
preliminaries of confinement were justified, unless she 
knew exactly for what misdemeanors she was so pun- 
ished, by being kept in such close custody.” 

“ That is perfectly just and proper, my son, but 
throughout the trying ordeal, do not forget to be a gen- 
tleman; maintain entire control over your temper, and 
in your just indignation, and righteous wrath, over ir- 
reparable injuries, never forget that you are a Sinclair, 

or that she is a woman, and your •” 

“ Don’t, father ! ” the young man interrrupted, in an 
anguished voice. “ Don’t repeat the word. I know what 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


7 1 


you would say, but the truth is too painful just now, and 
I cannot endure it ; besides, I long ago repudiated her 
right to that sacred claim. To forget that I am a Sin- 
clair, never ; to forget that the woman I am addressing, 
is a felon, protected and hidden from the law, under the 
roof of an old and respected southern family, — never, 
also.” 

Much as he wished in his kind old heart, to say some- 
thing in mitigation of this stern decree, he could not, 
for he knew it was only just. He sat with his head 
bowed, his silvery locks disheveled, and thinly touching 
his wrinkled hands. Finally he resumed as though in 
pursuance of his silent reflections. “ The result of your 
interview with her will probably better determine just 
what course to pursue, my son ; but I would suggest for 
the present, an amendment of your outlined course, by 
giving her her usual liberty, but under close and unsus- 
pected surveillance. I fear that enforced and recognized 
isolation, on her part, even in elegant quarters in any 
part of the house, would only serve to infuriate her tem- 
per and queer disposition, and with the connivance of 
her maid, (whom we cannot trust) we could not foretell 
the resultant consequences.” 

“ Perhaps you are right on that point, father; at 
least your logic is sound, but if I accede in giving her 
her temporary liberty, as you suggest, I do so under 
protest. However, as you say, the interview and accusa- 
tion will more fully determine the issue. The neces- 
sary interview is imperative, even though I gain no satis- 
faction or benefit therefrom ; I could not continue living 
under the same roof, knowing what I do of her guilt, 
meeting her every day unexpectedly in different places 
about the house and grounds, even dining with her at 
your honored table, forced to be conventionally polite to 
her before the servants, and yet conceal from her my 
knowledge of her terrible crimes, and all else she has 
done to bring untold misery and trouble upon us all. 


72 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


That would be utterly impossible, my dear father, and 
so the painful accusation must be made, and a square 
understanding met between us for all future time ” 
“Yes! I myself think it best, also; but through it 
all, be a true man, true to yourself, and remember, also, 
that she is a woman, even though an erring one, and be 
merciful.” 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


73 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE STORMY INTERVIEW. 

The interview was a stormy one, which cannot ade- 
quately be described ; firmly resolved as he was to control 
his temper, and his wrath, as his venerable father had 
advised, yet her slow, cool manner, her tones of cutting 
sarcasm and defiance, made his position intolerable. He 
requested her maid to leave the apartment, when he first 
entered; but Leonore peremptorily ordered her to stay, 
saying she was absolute mistress of those rooms, and 
recognized no authority over them or herself. The 
obedient maid was, of course, perfectly willing to obey 
her mistress and quite interested in seeing and hearing 
all that transpired between the two combatants. But 
when Desmond opened the door wide and with white 
stern face and eloquent gesture of the hand, silently 
ordered her from the room, she made her exit with alac- 
rity; for though no word passed the white, compressed 
lips, the dismissal was ample and effective. But once 
outside the closed and locked door, no human agency 
hindered her from applying her ear to the key-hole and 
treasuring up every word of that stormy interview. 

The injured, outraged, insulted husband, faced the 
false, heartless, revengeful wife, with her many crimes 
and committed sins, and clearly and distinctly laid be- 
fore her, the whole truthful exposure of her felony and 
forgery. He did not spare her in item, or detail; but 
“ line upon line, and precept upon precept,” the whole 
hideous array of her criminal instincts and destruct- 
ive tendencies, with the penalty therefor, was laid bare 


74 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


before her. But he might as well have spared himself 
the mental and physical effort, as far as any visible 
effect it seemed to have on her; into the large, wide- 
opened eyes, with their peculiar expression, a startled 
look of fear once entered, when he emphatically pro- 
nounced the terrible punishment of a convicted forger; 
but her reply was cool and exasperating enough to en- 
rage a saint. 

She informed him that he dared not take any 
such extreme measures with her, because she was 
his wife, and he was a Sinclair, and as his race was old 
and blue blooded, their traditional pride, (of which he 
so continually boasted) would prevent him from making 
such an awful exposure, and thus bring ruin and dis- 
grace upon the exalted family escutcheon, which no 
punishment of a plebian foreigner, married into their 
family, could ever wipe out. “ Therefore, I am perfectly 
safe for you dare not prosecute me for forgery, and if 
you did, you could not prove it; no one saw me write 
any such letter as you accuse me of, and no one could 
swear to it, which would be legally necessary. Neither 
can you send me home to my father, a ruined, repudi- 
ated wife, for you have not the money to do so ; you see 
I thwarted that intentional project; attempt to coerce 
me in any way, restrain my liberty or actions, and I will 
arouse the neighborhood and the country will ring with 
a scandal such as was never known in these parts, and 
the boasted old Sinclair pride, with their haughty heads 
will be bowed to the dust, and the feat be accomplished 
too, by a plebian. You see I hold all the trump cards. 
I have not counted without the cost ; now do your worst, 
I care not.” 

She looked at him with a cruel smile on her lips, a 
glittering light in her strange dark eyes, and a face 
tantalizingly beautiful enough to tempt an Anchorite. 
Desmond looked at her in speechless amazement; every 
word she had spoken of their family pride, honor, and 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


75 


spotless ancestry, was true to the letter. Every word 
of her boasted power over them, on her lower, moral 
plane, and warped sense of right and wrong, was true 
also. That she would not scruple to carry out her evil 
designs, if interfered with in any wonted pleasure, or 
plan, he did not for an instant doubt, knowing her vin- 
dictive nature, when once aroused. She did indeed, hold 
a handful of trump cards ; and yet, with all her daring 
defiance, he more than ever now, firmly determined to 
adhere to his former resolution, that she should be 
forcibly confined, or restrained, from precipitating any 
new calamity, or further disgrace on the household. He 
realized now, as he never did before, the depths of 
her relentless, and vindictive disposition; her language 
betrayed her depraved nature. He would not and could 
not sink to her level. His parting words, ere he left her 
apartment, while his hand rested on the door knob, and 
his eyes still lingered on her beautiful face, were sig- 
nificant with meaning.” 

“ Leonore ! I once loved you, as I never did, and never 
can love again, any human being. My honored, and 
honorable parents, at whom you, in your depravity chose 
to sneer, never before had a shadow of disgrace, or 
reproach thrown upon them, until you entered this 
sunny Eden, and made of it a Hades. I once loved you, 
as a pure, stainless, devoted wife, trusted utterly, until 
I found out your falseness, your perfidy, and your utter 
baseness. Now, much as I once loved, and trusted you, 
do I doubt, despise, and loathe you, measure, for 
measure, full to overflowing. As much as I love my sin- 
less child, I would rather see her to-day, with the cold 
clods piled above her gentle breast, than live, knowing 
that she has a share of your cursed blood in her white 
veins; knowing that you certainly are her mother, 
though thank God! she does not in the least resemble 
you, or any of your race. Past experience teaches me 
that I cannot expect any awakening of conscience, re- 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


76 

morse, or repentance, in yon in the future ; but distinctly 
understand this one thing ; — that so long as you remain 
an inmate of this house, sheltered beneath its hallowed 
roof, you must, during that time, lead at least the 
semblance of an exemplary life; no more crimes, or 
escapades on your part, will be tolerated; no farther 
sheltering, or shielding from the law will be given the 
next offence, but the disgrace will rest where it belongs, 
and you will be given into the custody of those who 
deal with such as you. I sincerely regret the necessity 
of this harsh warning; I hope for your own sake, you 
will heed it. Good afternoon, Madam ! ” 

He opened the door (almost stumbling over the 
crouching form of the maid) and closed it behind him, 
but scarcely had he done so, when a loud peal of harsh, 
discordant, defiant laughter, greeted his sensitive ears, 
practically conveying to him, all the impression, his 
words, or manner had made upon the beautiful Tigress. 
However, he had thrown down the gauntlet, would she 
pick it up, with any demonstration of open hostility? 
He would wait and see. A week passed very quietly; 
nothing occurred to disturb the even routine of the 
household; Leonore appeared as usual, with her wonted 
cool serenity, and outward indifference, to the very 
apparent avoidance of the other members of the family. 
There was an added glitter in her eyes one morning, a 
few days later, however, when she ordered the light 
phaeton for a morning drive, and was told by the coach- 
man that he had positive adverse orders. Then, one 
cloudy moonlight night, a low hum of voices sounded 
distantly somewhere in the grounds; Desmond’s sensi- 
tive nerves, having become so strained, and alert, to 
every kind of danger and excitement in the last few 
weeks, he awoke instantly, and noiselessly sprang to the 
window, just in time to see his wife and a hulky male 
companion cross a clear space in the grounds, enter the 
road, and quickly springing into a buggy, drive off 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


77 


rapidly in the direction of the town. It took but a very 
few minutes for Desmond to wake the coachman, give 
hasty orders to that individual to follow him with the 
phaeton, with all the speed possible, himself leading the 
way on his bicycle. It was an exciting chase in the early 
hours, approaching morning; the fleeing, guilty couple, 
the lone, and swiftly gaining pursuer on the glittering 
bicycle, the flying hoof-beats of the blooded horse, guided 
by the firm grasp of the sturdy man who held the reins, 
followed closely in the rear of pursuer, and pursued. 
Now and then, the moon emerged from a veiling cloud, 
and showed them all plainly — then again, in the 
temporary gloom, and silence, the sound of wheels, or 
hoof, in unusual haste, was the only guide to the issue 
of victory on either side. But Desmond had the 
advantage of unnecessary encumbrance, and swifter 
facilities, and with just indignation, and wrath, nerving 
his young arm, he gained on the party ahead of him, 
who had the advantage in the start of that perilous race. 
A pistol shot rang out on the still night air, a frightened 
woman’s scream followed, a stern command to halt; 
then a lithe figure sprang from the bicycle, and grasped 
the bit of the tired, and frightened animal, with a grip 
of steel. A few sharp, angry words followed, then a 
fierce struggle for mastery between the two men, during 
which the swiftly approaching wheels stopped, and a 
third man took a hand in the exciting contest, then it 
terminated quite suddenly. A woman’s fleeing form 
was discovered far down the dim road, disappearing 
amid the shadows; another interesting chase was given 
by two excited men in a phaeton, and the woman was 
brought to bay. She resolutely faced them with a 
revolver, aimed at deadly range, in her white but steady 
hand; at that crisis, a light buggy passed them, driven 
in great haste, turning abruptly into a branch road lead- 
ing across the open country; the valiant eloper had left 
his companion in dire straits, to extricate herself as 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


78 

best she could, his chief ambition just then was to escape 
the vengeance of a husband’s strong arm, or possibly 
the more effectual one of the law. Whether the revolver 
was loaded or not, Desmond waited not a moment to 
ascertain, but made a reckless rush toward her, just as 
his man, with an unlooked for strategic movement, gave 
the weapon a quick upward blow that sent it spinning 
through the air, and when it landed on the ground some 
distance from them, the loud report that followed, was 
proof sufficient that it was ready for murderous work. 

Disarmed, helpless, all escape cut off, farther attempt 
useless, deserted by her brave escort, Leonore stood with 
white hands unconsciously clasped, mutely facing a most 
perplexing situation, in which her husband this time, 
held the key to its solving. 

“ Well Madam ! Are you perfectly satisfied with the 
result of your embarrassing escapade, elopement, or 
whatever name you choose to call it, and about ready 
to return home ? If so, the phaeton waits your ladyship’s 
pleasure” — and Desmond waved his hand toward the 
carriage, and bowed low in mock politeness. 

She however stood motionless as a statue, regarding 
him with a steely light in her large dark eyes, with 
firmly set lips, vouchsafing no reply to his sarcastic 
enquiry. It was a tableau worthy a different setting. 
The public highway by moonlight, deserted, save by 
those strangely, but interested three — the time some- 
where in the small hours of the early morning — a horse 
unconcernedly munching the short blades of grass by the 
roadside, and a bicycle resting suggestively against a 
tree. 

Finally, after a lapse of silence, which Desmond 
thought sufficient for a reply, he again addressed her 
with the same sarcastic politeness. 

“ Madam ! the hour grows late, — or rather, early ; the 
dew is quite pronounced, and your white dress thin, I 
yrould suggest an immediate return home, as a practical 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


79 

remedy against chills, or a severe cold. Come! Are 
you quite ready ? 

“ No ! I prefer not to return to your house ; I would 
rather die here, and now, than ever to enter its hated 
walls again,” she answered, with cold, decisive tones. 

“ Well ! I don’t know that I wonder at it, or that I am 
at all surprised at your strange wish ; but unfortunately, 
as I do not wish to be an innocent accessory to your 
[(possibly) premeditated suicide, I cannot accede to your 
request; and now, I would advise you to voluntarily 
seat yourself in the carriage, and avoid the unpleasant- 
ness of being forced in, unwillingly, as you certainly will 
be, if you do not comply with my invitation at once.” 

There was a tone of suppressed wrath, and a ring in 
voice and manner that she understood, as he stepped 
toward her. She looked at him steadily, defiantly, for 
the space of a minute, then walked slowly toward the 
light vehicle, which the groom had brought to the center 
of the road, and was respectfully holding the horse by 
the bits. Declining assistance, she sprang lightly to the 
seat, Desmond taking his place beside her, and grasping 
the reins firmly, he drove rapidly homeward, his faith- 
ful ally, following swiftly in his wake, on the discarded 
bicycle. 

Not a word was spoken on that lonely drive, between 
those two, so near, yet so far apart ; what their thoughts 
were, no human being will ever know. Arrived at the 
grounds, Desmond stopped a moment, as the man took 
the reins from his hand, and gave him the handle bars 
of the other. 

“ Thomas?” 

“ Sir.” 

“ Not a word of this, to any living being.” 

“ Never ! I think you know me better than that, sir.” 

“ Thank you, Thomas! I believe I can trust you 
entirely.” The receding wheels were guided out of the 
driveway, on the soft grass, by the cunning coachman, 


8o 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


thus muffling their sound, on the way to the stables, 
while Desmond silently escorted Leonore through the 
great hall, to the suite of rooms occupied by her, with 
the significant injunction to the frightened maid, who 
met them at the door. 

“Driscol! remember, that I hold you personally re- 
sponsible for watchfulness, and the safe keeping of your 
mistress, the remainder of this night, and all other 
nights, while you, and she remain in this house.” Then 
Desmond noiselessly sought his own room, thankful 
that the slumber of the household had not been dis- 
turbed, and more than thankful that his dear old 
mother was ignorant of this wild night’s adventure, and 
therefore, need not feel disgraced, or wretched over it, 
though he should most assuredly lay the cold facts before 
his father, as he did everything of importance and abide 
by the wisdom of his advice. He was sick in mind and 
body; how long was this wretched household tragedy 
going to last? how long could these horrors be safely 
hidden? how long could these facts be kept from ex- 
posure from the country side, or their gossip over exist- 
ing state of affairs averted, when once known ? Surely, 
this closet skeleton was a difficult one to deal with. This 
night’s work, had completely unnerved him, now that 
the excitement was over, and the tension relaxed enough 
to allow him to think. What to do with Leonore — how 
to control her future actions, how to watch her closely 
enough, to guard against a renewal of her strange, and 
unaccountable escapades, was a problem he owned to 
himself, the solving was clearly beyond his wisdom. 
Something must be done, and reason, and safety said — 
Immediately, but what? His brain suggested one su- 
preme, and effectual resource, to compass this threatened 
evil, and relieve the strained situation ; a resource, stern, 
unfailing, and final, but with all her treachery, and 
falseness, his heart, and all his sympathies, shrank from 
putting into execution, as one almost inhuman, and 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 81 

perhaps even surpassing any crime she might commit. 

He tried to resolutely put aside the thought of con- 
finement in a retreat for the Insane. He could not yet, 
bear the thought, that his dainty, beautiful wife, was 
diseased in mind, or that she ever looked with sad, dark 
eyes through grated windows, on the sunny, outside 
world. No ! he would not contemplate so serious a step 
yet, unless later developments urged its necessity, as 
imperitive. Was she insane? if not insane, what was 
the malady ? what the strange trouble ? some inner voice 
replied, — “ She is possessed of the devil.” 


82 


[THE ANGEL OE THE PINES 


CHAPTER IX. 

Oh how oft in soul communings 
Do we murmur, if we could ; 

When the God who knoweth all things, 
Knows the truth is if we would. 


As Desmond naturally expected, Leonore did not 
appear at the breakfast table, next morning, Driscol 
carrying the tray, with a dainty repast to her room, 
saying her mistress was not well, and begged to be ex- 
cused. 

Her absence was certainly a great relief to the 
unhappy husband, he knowing well the cause of her 
sudden indisposition. With the request, to his father, 
that he join him in the library, as soon as convenient, 
on a matter of business, Desmond rose from the table, 
and retired from the room. From the library, he and 
his devoted old father ascended the broad stairs, to his 
private room, where they generally transacted business, 
and were secure against intrusion. Seating themselves, 
Desmond proceeded in a low tense voice, to lay before 
his sorrowful parent, the whole disgraceful revelations 
of the night before. All the facts were laid bare; all 
the repulsive outlines of the plot, and its frustrated 
sequel, were unmasked. The dear old man sat speech- 
less; the venerable head would shake occasionally, or 
nod in emphasis or approval; the desperation and dis- 
grace of the act, seemed overwhelming. Finally he said 
in a slow, puzzled manner, when Desmond had finished 
the recital, “I don’t know just what is best to advise 
in this matter my son ; but to my mind, there is but one 
sensible alternative to meet the exigencies of this special 
case, and yet it is one we would both hesitate acting upon, 
if it were possible to avoid.” 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 83 

“ Yes,” Desmond replied; “ I know well, to what you 
allude, father, and as you say, if possible to be avoided, 
it is desirable, for more than one reason; but can we 
much longer, avert the inevitable? that is the question. 
Can we feel confident one moment, that she will not 
commit a more flagrant outrage, against all decent 
proprieties, and one that cannot so easily be hidden from 
curious eyes, and once exposed, would fly broadcast upon 
the winds of heaven? I already recoil from such a 
dire calamity ; and yet I have a prophetic feeling, that 
some awful danger is threatening ; not only one, but the 
whole household is in peril of something I dare not 
name, yet which she might do in one of her daring, 
reckless moods, whether irresponsible or otherwise. I 
am certainly, sorely perplexed, my father, and greatly 
troubled ; a few more weeks of this intense strain, and I 
shall be a fit subject myself, for a certain Institution.” 

“ My dear boy, I understand, and appreciate fully, the 
entire situation ; I agree with you, as to the possible, and 
probable result of delay in acting, as the necessity seems 
to require, and yet I am reluctant to either act, or advise 
too hastily in the matter. But, I realize we are impelled 
to do something, to guard against a neighborhood 
scandal, for we know not what queer freak, her next 
strange mood would lead her into; I would advise this, 
however, as an experiment, both for practicability, and 
present safety, time will prove the wisdom, or folly of 
the step. Forcible, and absolute confinement in her suite 
of rooms, as you suggested not so long since, would 
certainly prevent the climax of another disgraceful 
escapade of last night, and also insure the safety of the 
family ; it seems cruel, but I can advise no other method, 
and no other effectual solution of the puzzling situation, 
unless the other alternative be resorted to.” 

“ I have thought of resorting to the same heroic 
measures, father, many times, and only deferred from its 
execution, because you seemed so unwilling; but now, I 
think we had better do so at once.” 


84 THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 

"From a humane point, I am just as reluctant to 
isolate her now, as ever, for I know her furious, and 
vindictive temper; but to save her from herself, and 
possibly, also, the lives of others, I can see only this one 
method, or the other terrible alternative; God knows, 
I wish I could.” 

“ Amen ! and amen ! ” groaned Desmond, in anguish 
of spirit, as his father concluded the last remark. 

At last the direful situation, was seemingly com- 
passed; very quietly, new locks, and fixtures were put 
upon the many heavy doors; the foreign maid was 
firmly, and seriously instructed, never to allow her 
mistress to pass beyond the locked portals of her own 
domains. To faithfully administer to her comfort, and 
to comply with every reasonable whim, but never dare 
to yield to her pleadings or commands, for farther 
liberty in the outside world ; she was to deliver no com- 
munications, or notes to any person, not a member of the 
family; and she was to be alert, and watchful over her, 
as she would be held strictly responsible, and account- 
able; and besides, there was to be no gossip among the 
servants, and no betrayal of family matters by her, in 
the neighborhood. With a white face, and frightened 
expression, and very reluctant manner, the maid com- 
plied, asking no questions. 

Although Desmond did not have any too much con- 
fidence in his wife’s wily Spanish attendant, or place 
very much reliance on either her disposition, or inten- 
tion, to adhere faithfully, to his explicit orders, in face 
of the violent opposition of his wife, yet he felt in a 
measure more secure ; the excessive strain of the last few 
weeks, was temporarily relieved, and he gladly courted 
the prospect of needed sleep, rest, and recuperation, 
which nature demanded, for both mind and body. 

Days passed by; two weeks had slipped into oblivion, 
with the enforced seclusion seemingly pleasant, and 
perfectly satisfactory to the inmates of the gilded prison 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


85 

above, when one never to be forgotten night, within the 
frenzied memory of Desmond Sinclair, he was awakened 
from a sound sleep, by the presence of a tall, ghostly 
figure, standing by his bed, an arm upraised above the 
dead white face, the hand of which grasped an uplifted, 
and murderous dagger, ready in an instant, to descend 
upon either brain, or heart. It was an awful, and su- 
preme moment in his life. Not a word was spoken on 
either side; no outcry from one or the other; but just 
then, from across the wide old hall, issued from the 
imprisoning rooms opposite, a scream so wild in its 
intense terror, so weird in its ringing tones on the still 
night air, that it would almost freeze the blood of its 
hearers. The silent statue appeared to listen ; it arrested 
for a second, the poised, murderous hand, about to de- 
scend on its fatal mission, and that second’s irresolution 
was Desmond Sinclair’s salvation. With a desperate 
upward leap, he grasped the soft, white wrist, hurling 
the knife with a dexterous manoeuvre to the floor, and 
holding with firm hands, the strong, writhing, but still 
silent murderess. A second later, the terrified maid, 
Driscol, rushed unceremoniously into the room, in her 
night robe, wild eyed, and excited, to behold her cool, 
self-possessed mistress, the calmest one among the group, 
and learn the particulars of her presence in that cham- 
ber, and relate her own discovery of her absence, and the 
almost incredible manner of her noiseless escape. 

The entire household was assembled, and many of the 
frightened servants, all summoned alike, by the awful 
screams, that rang out on the solemn midnight air. 

Desmond was still holding the insane and desperately 
furious creature, firmly in his arms, to prevent her from 
harming either herself, or him, when the members of 
the family gathered around him. 

“ Leonore ! for God sake what would you do ? What 
are you trying to do?” demanded the trembling old 
man, with white, quivering lips. 


86 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


“ I would kill him ! kill him ! kill him ! " hissed the 
frantic, struggling woman, in shrill tones. I would 
release myself from a legal tyrant. Oh ! I hate him ! 
hate and despise him. I am foiled in my purpose to- 
night, but " — She did not finish the sentence, but her 
audience, however, could draw their own conclusions as 
to her meaning. 

“ Don't ask me to keep watch, and guard over her any 
more," exclaimed Driscol. “ Indeed I would not be left 
alone with her again, for a thousand pounds." 

“ Considering how faithfully you have watched her 
this night, I should judge your services were worth just 
that amount," Desmond replied with withering scorn. 
Then he gave the order, that the servants all retire from 
the room, at once, going to their respective quarters; 
advised his frightened mother to return to her apart- 
ments, and get what sleep she could, as he and his father 
could take care of their troublesome charge until day- 
light, when some strenuous measures, would be decided 
upon, to control her actions in the future. 

When quietness once more reigned, the maniac, (for 
now, there was no longer doubt, whatever in their minds, 
concerning her insanity) was forced upon the wide, com- 
fortable couch, and an opiate administered, that would 
render her drowsy, or at least incapable of doing any 
more harm, the remaining hours of that night. The 
early morning, drew together a short session of the three 
most interested members of the family, when the 
unanimous verdict was arrived at, with but little delay; 
and that verdict was, that an examining committee be 
appointed, to inquire into, and decide upon the sanity of 
Leonore. No longer could the lives and safety of any 
one be so jeopardized. The cunning of madness, had 
eluded the vigilance of her maid; they could not trust 
her again, with the responsibility, even were she willing 
to accept, which she decidedly was not, and now, every 
servant on the place was fully acquainted with the 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


87 


horrible facts, and so frightened, they were ready to 
decamp to the woods. It was then, that the trusted 
coachman was again called, and made acquainted with 
existing facts, and his services pressed into requisition, 
by a sealed letter given him, which he was to deliver 
personally, and to drive with all haste to the insane 
Asylum at B — , ten miles distant, and return with the 
gentleman named in the letter. 

Utter secrecy, and silence was required on his part, 
and one, and all, knew the trust would not in any wise 
be broken, as years of honest, and faithful service to the 
family, attested to his sterling worth, and homely 


[THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


CHAPTER XL 

THE INSANE ASYLUM. CONFINEMENT OF LEONORE. 

The Turrets are white, in the soft moonlight ; 

The trees in the shadow are dark ; 

And dim are the walls, and the heavy gates, 

That guard the grounds of the Park.— Phipps. 

We will pass over the wretched ordeal as lightly as 
possible; the trying circumstances attendant upon the 
removal of the unhappy young wife, and mother, forever 
from the palatial old manor, fragrant with the subtle 
perfume, and bloom of roses, its charm of freedom, and 
southern sweetness, and luxury, to the forced confine- 
ment, the gloom, and isolation of the Institute, where 
at last, it was found necessary to place her. 

Hearts have broken many times, on this restless old 
earth, under much less strain than this; she was not 
permitted to see her daughter, even for a last, sad fare- 
well. Indeed, it was not deemed advisable to do so, as 
all believed it was at her instigation at least, that the 
attempt was made to either kidnap her, or take her life, 
not so many months ago. As for any remorseful fare- 
wells to the family, there were none ; she showed a little 
human emotion toward the maid, in a last brief inter- 
view, to whom she gave a secret Spanish message, to be 
delivered to her people, when she arrived in that sunny 
land, for that worthy, was only too anxious to shake the 
dust of an alien country off of her high heeled slippers, 
and embark once more, for that clime of romance, of 
sunshine, and of song. But fateful curses, loud and 
deep, vindictive and terrible enough, to chill the blood 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


89 


of her hearers, could they believe aught would be accom- 
plished by their awful utterances, were hurled at the 
devoted head of her patient, but silent husband. With 
her white, jeweled hand raised high in the sunlit 
heavens, she tragically repeated again and again, — 

“ I hate you ! I hate you ! I hate you ! Desmond Sin- 
claire, with an eternal hatred, that will never die, neither 
in this world, nor the world beyond, if indeed there is 
such a world; but in this, of which I have positive 
assurance of its reality, I curse you, and yours, with a 
curse, that I hope will follow you, with a malignity, and 
relentlessness, forever, and forever. A curse that will 
settle upon you, with its mildew, and blight, and canker, 
quenching the light of love, reason, and happiness within 
you, for the future, and ruining forever, your young 
manhood, in its prime, and flower. Now, take me away ! 
I hope never to look upon your fair, false face again, 
either in life, or in death; for myself, I care not what 
happens now, I can endure it; it is a living death to 
which you have condemned me, but it will only be of 
short duration. Come ! I am ready ! ” 

Like a young Queen, she stood facing them, in the 
innocence, and dignity, of the martyrdom, and torture, 
of the days of the French revolution, when blood flowed 
like water. Without the proffered assistance of either 
necessity, or etiquette, she stepped into the closed car- 
riage, and calmly seated herself upon the soft cushions ; 
she took not the slightest notice of the trembling hand 
outstretched toward her, in a friendly farewell, but 
gathered her silken skirts around her, and held them 
daintily, with her jeweled hand, queenly, haughtily, and 
gracefully to the last. 

But when night again, with its black shadows, closed 
down upon that isolated spot, it was a different woman, 
whose dark, mournful eyes, looked forth from those 
strongly secured windows, on the fair, beautiful world 
outside, with the pallid moonlight, lying like a dead 


90 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


white mantle over all. She was a prisoner now, within 
those dreary walls, while life lasted ; while the wayward 
heart slowly sickened, and died within her; while the 
active brain, with its evil passions, and uncontrollable 
impulses, throbbed on, and on, she knew there would 
never more, be any escape for her. But she would not 
ask for leniency, or freedom, from its hated thrall; she 
would wait calmly, until death freed her. No wild 
prayers, would ever ascend to heaven, imploring forgive- 
ness, mercy, or relief. No sorrowful, repentant mes- 
sages, would ever be sent by her, to the one, who, alone, 
could speak the magic word, that would free her from 
the ban, that so hopelessly immured her, and take her 
once more a trusted wife, to the shelter of his strong 
arms. No! as she had lived, so would she die! This 
was the eternal vow she silently registered, as she stood, 
looking out of that upper window, on the midnight, 
moonlit, far-reaching panorama before her. 

There was little sleep also, that night, for one inmate 
at least, of the old manor, so quietly sheltered among the 
softly sighing pines, contentment only reigning supreme, 
in the domains of the now thoroughly satisfied servants. 
They were blissfully happy, knowing that the dangerous 
element was removed that they imagined, menaced them 
also, and they could sleep, without fearing the midnight 
presence of an apparition by their bedside with an up- 
lifted dagger. But not so Desmond; neither the aged 
couple, who had been silently cognizant of all the direful 
happenings, of the past few months, and had at last, 
sorrowfully acquiesced, in the closing scene of the morn- 
ing. Notwithstanding the utter weariness of body, and 
soul, consequent on the long, and continued strain of 
months of trouble, and anxiety, when tired nature, re- 
peatedly, and pathetically, called for rest, and sleep, it 
seemed now, to Desmond, to be utterly denied him. 
Long he lay, tossing uneasily among the cushions, in 
that luxurious, but lonely room. He could hear in- 


L THE ANGEL OE THE PINES 


9i 


distinctly, sounds, as of some one moving about, in the 
room across the hall, usually occupied by Driscol; 
probably she was packing her large trunk, preparatory to 
her hasty departure in the morning, to catch the early 
train. The soft sounds, did not in the least, disturb 
him ; his thoughts were far away, among the shadows of 
that now, silent abode, tree embowered, vine-clad, and 
beautiful without, but which contained so much hid- 
den hopeless misery, so many tears, heart-breaks, and 
pathetic wrecks, of what was once, sunny, and happy 
lives. He wondered if Leonore, too, was lying awake, 
thinking, and if so, what was the trend of her thoughts ; 
reproach, and hatred of him still ? or remorse, and con- 
trition, for the murderous attempt on his life, prompted 
by the passionate temper, which made it both merciful, 
and necessary, to guard her against herself, as well as 
to insure the safety of others. At last with an earnest 
heart felt prayer for the erring one upon his quivering 
lips, the drowsy lids slowly closed over the weary eyes, 
and he slept long and soundly, the sleep of utter exhaus- 
tion, and entire relief from encompassing danger. 

Then the calmness of his slumber seemed to change to 
a reality in dreamland ; for as though by some mysterious 
clairvoyant force, there seemed to come from far back 
in the mystic past, a long, slow footed throng, with 
heavy even steps ; at first, they were faint, and indistinct, 
but more tangible, and recognizable, as they approached 
nearer, and nearer, until they finally passed him in the 
land of dreams, and disappeared in a glimmer of mist, 
and darkness. There were forms, and faces of a people, 
clad in strange, fantastic garbs, and queer head cover- 
ings, of an age so long ago, that it was buried deep in the 
unsearchable drift, and dust of many past centuries. 
Each carried the peculiar implement, that characterized 
his particular calling, and employment, in those days. 
There was the patriarch of his race, with long white 
beard, and flowing locks, strong featured, and resolute 


92 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


looking; behind him came the young men of a later 
generation, handsome noble looking, and attired in more 
modernized garments; then there was a long procession 
of lovely women, and winsome young maidens, with 
their dainty, delicate features, red lips, and marvelously 
beautiful eyes. 

But whether burdened with a helpless child in their 
weary arms, or guiding a little one’s faltering footsteps 
by their side, all — all — possessed the same strange, dark, 
flashing orbs, whose magnetic glances seemed alike to 
lure, and to kill ; the light of madness glittered in their 
depths, and though beautiful, it was death. The long, 
shadowy procession, had nearly filed past his bewildered, 
and fascinated gaze, when the last one, a being so 
entranci’ngly beautiful, so bewitching in her soft, wo- 
manly charms, so irresistible, with the light of love in 
the beautiful, midnight eyes, with their long, drooping 
lashes, and straight brows, slowly lingered beside him, 
and lightly touching his warm hand, with her soft, cool, 
taper fingers, slightly bent toward him, and whispered in 
thrilling accents — “ Husband, forgive ! forgive ! I cannot 
resist, or evade my destiny ! it is fate ! This countless 
throng, whom you have seen pass, were all my ancestors. 
The hot, impatient, ungovernable blood of insanity, runs 
in all our veins alike ; the Patriarch of his tribe, the lover 
of his sweet-heart, and the sinless babe on its mother’s 
tender, life nourishing breast. It is there, and it follows 
us all, like an avenging Nemesis, a demon of evil, with 
its soft wiles, and alluring spells, until death cools the 
burning brain, and wildly throbbing heart, and the 
grave of forgetfulness covers all.” Then the slight form, 
once more stood erect, the hesitating footsteps re- 
luctantly sought to rejoin the dimly receding throng; 
but ere she disappeared, she turned, and gave him one 
more backward glance of love, and life, from those 
glorious orbs, and with a graceful wave of the white, 
perfect hand, she also, vanished forever. Who can tell 


[THE ANGEL OF) THE PINES 


93 


the mystic meaning of dreams? Who can reveal their 
foreshadowing, or forewarnings? Who can say there is 
no occult influence, either for good, or evil, sometimes 
conveyed in those somnolent hours, so close to the border 
land of that other world, where the twin of sleep, holds 
the invisible keys called — Death ? 

It was a late hour in the morning, when Desmond 
awoke with a start, from this very suggestive, and 
realistic dream. He pondered over its strange meaning, 
and wondered more and more, over the unexplainable, 
moving picture, the procession from the remote, hazy, 
past, with its inscrutable lesson, down to the painful 
present, with the strange message of Leonore. Though 
the warm sunshine was flooding his room, lighting with 
its glory, every object within; though the happy birds 
were merrily singing their praises of the beautiful world 
they lived in as they flitted in innocent freedom, from 
bush, and tree, and flower, yet Desmond felt cold, and 
shivered, as though a chill passed over him. He could 
not divest himself of the strange, symbolic meaning of 
the dream, if dream it was, or vision of a mystic world, 
vague, mysterious, and unknown. He dressed, and went 
slowly down the stairs; he had no desire for breakfast, 
and so, passed out of the broad hall, into the yard. At 
the entrance of the graveled drive-way, he encountered 
Thomas, the coachman; he had just returned from the 
Depot, whither he had conveyed Driscol, with her trunks, 
and boxes. She had departed without regrets on either 
side, to take the outward bound steamer, that would 
soon put the broad ocean between them. Through the 
many colored shrubs, and gorgeous foliage of the ex- 
tensive, and luxuriant garden, out upon the level meadow 
beyond, he saw two flitting figures, upon the backs of 
two swiftly racing, gyrating animals. One, had long 
golden curls, a fair white, lovely face, and graceful, 
girlish, figure. The other, was dark, with thin, piquant 
features, quick, and agile in her movements ; Cicely, was 
teaching Angel, expert horsemanship. 


94 


[THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


CHAPTEK XI. 

DEATH OP IiEONOBE. 

*' The day is done— and the darkness, 

Falls from the wings of night ; 

As a feather is wafted downward. 

From an Eagle, in his flight.”— Lowel. 

Desmond had not before realized, how rapidly his 
little girl was growing out of childhood, until he watched 
her that day, with a fascinated gaze, and marked her 
ability to master Black Bess, with her nervous, mettle- 
some, disposition. She was slender, and graceful, and 
very beautiful, with the fair blond beauty of the Sin- 
clair’s. So much had transpired of such intense serious- 
ness in the swiftly passing time, and especially in the 
last few months, that he had seen but very little of her, 
since the night the mysterious attack was made upon her 
life. Now, since the necessity for such constant watch- 
fulness had been removed, and the former vigilance re- 
laxed, the whole household had settled down to its old 
time peaceful calm; Angel had once more taken her 
accustomed place in the family circle, but always 
attended, and accompanied, everywhere, by her willing 
slave, Cicely. The months had slowly slipped by, (since 
Leonore’s incarceration) until two years have dawned 
upon the century, grown old, died and were gathered in 
the grave of forgetfulness. The heavy indebtedness still 
remained, and hung like the black shadow of death upon 
him ; never ceasing in its reminders, never amid all his 
domestic troubles, loosening its grip upon his very vitals. 
Many times had he succeeded in nearly meeting it with 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


95 


the accumulated amount of demand, when some unfore- 
seen difficulty would arise, to frustrate for the time his 
cherished object. Messages came with regularity from 
the Asylum ; Leonore was about the same ; no change for 
better, or worse. Always calm and quiet, silent, save 
when spoken to, making no friends, and very little 
trouble. Visits had been made very frequently, by 
Desmond, but she invariably refused to see him, or any 
one who accompanied him. If a few kind words were 
sent her in a sealed envelope, it was returned to him 
with the seal unbroken. 

Absolute silence, and unforgiveness on her part, re- 
mained between them. Desmond had succeeded in 
obtaining a lucrative and responsible position in a dis- 
tant western city, which promised to relieve the strain, 
which had so long been tightening around him. Though 
not in any respect comparable with the previous one 
which he lost in the wording of Leonore’s fatal letter, 
yet he willingly accepted, since the cause of anxiety 
was removed, which had made it necessary for him to 
remain. He was to be apprised immediately, if any 
change occurred at the Ivy clad structure, amid the high 
strong walls, and heavy, iron gates. The loved ones, at 
the old ancestral manor, among the Pines, would ever 
be the objects of his constant, and loyal solicitude, and 
he ardently hoped for a happy change, and improved 
condition from depressing circumstances, when he re- 
turned again. 

The changing seasons came, and went; the summer’s 
glittering sunshine lay warm and bright over all the 
world, and again the winter’s dead white mantle, covered 
all the chill, and frozen landscape. 

One dreary autumn night, hurried foot-steps ascended 
the porch of a large, commodious mansion in the suburbs. 
A hasty peal of the bell, brought some one to the door, 
where a messenger boy was revealed, with the ominous 
yellow envelope, ever a precursor of evil tidings. It was 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


96 

addressed to Desmond Sinclair, and read, — “ Come at 
once; Leonore is dying.” An ashy hue overspread the 
handsome, young face; his hands shook so, he could 
scarcely sign the paper. Dazed, and bewildered, he flung 
a few garments into a traveling case, without much 
attempt at folding, and took a late train, whirling 
through the storm, and darkness, of the night, home- 
ward. What would he find at the end of that long, and 
lonely journey? Would the beautiful form be stretched 
in chill, and solemn stillness, forever dumb to caresses, 
unheeding, and unhearing words of love, and recon- 
ciliation ? Would she pass from this world, to the misty 
beyond, with no sign, or word of forgiveness on the lovely 
scarlet lips? Would the dark, unfathomable eyes, be 
forever closed, which once revealed the tender glances of 
a passionate love? Would the white, caressing hand, 
never again be laid on the soft, blond hair, with a touch 
both light and loving ? Oh he could not bear it ! These 
thoughts almost frenzied his brain. He would not be- 
lieve it. 

Dying! his Leonore dying! The dainty, beautiful, 
though erring creature, who once loved him so madly, 
or at least seemed to! — the high strung, untamable 
spirit, fettered with the blight of insanity, with estrange- 
ment still between them, no recognition of his presence, 
forever too late to ask forgiveness, or to be forgiven, 
and so pass unknown, and alone, beyond the mysterious 
border lands, into — Where ? The thought was madness ! 
He would not allow himself such gloomy thoughts. 
Leonore would not die! she would be better when he 
arrived, and he would immediately take her home, and 
stay with her, and watch over her with tenderest love 
and care. He had been very successful ! his salary had 
been ample, and it was a great gratification to him, to 
know that he was now fully prepared to remove all 
indebtedness from the dear old homestead. With that 
terrible incubus lifted, they could all be so happy; he 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


97 


could protect Leonore at home, and care for her uncease- 
ingly, and prevent another such a wretched recurrence. 
The thought was very comforting, and solacing. So 
many tender thoughts, and high resolves for the future, 
filled his brain, as he sped along through the far-reach- 
ing, starless night. How often, oh ! how often unavailing 
tears, remorse, and regret, comes too late for reparation, 
in our busy, eventful lives over real or imaginary in- 
juries. How often, if we could, we would blot out for- 
ever, even with tears of blood, some act of life, com- 
mitted thoughtlessly, or in the heat of anger, which no 
after repentance can ever obliterate from our own minds 
or the hearts of those who have suffered by it. And so 
with Desmond ! 

No matter how much injustice Leonore had done 
him, and his, (and he admitted it had been great, and 
the cause of his provocation was just,) yet now, he felt 
only forgiveness, kindness and tenderness toward the 
erring one, who had wrought all this misery, and mis- 
fortune, who was dying perhaps this moment, in her 
loneliness, and incarceration. 

No ! not dying ! for the hundreth time he told himself 
he would not have it so; he would not entertain the 
horrible thought. Yet, despite this resolve, the fateful 
words of the Telegram, persistently returned to him. 
Please God, I may not be too late was the constant 
refrain of his bitter reflections. No! not too late to 
clasp her hand once more, warm with life throbs ; not too 
late to read the light of reason in the strange dark eyes, 
or to hear the words of love and forgiveness in the 
sweet, musical voice. Not too late to receive the last 
long sighing kiss, from the beautiful red lips, or to 
feel the last pressure of the white rounded arms, ere 
they relaxed in death, even as they encircled his neck. 
At last the weary journey came to an end, and the 
message, announcing his probable arrival, found Tom, 
the faithful coachman waiting at the Depot, Tom 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


98 

silently clasped the outstretched hand, in a warm clasp 
of sympathy, and to the hurried inquiry — “ How is she 
Tom ? ” that worthy replied, “ Mortal bad, so I hear sir ; 
the father, and mother are there now.” 

“ At the Asylum ? ” 

“Yes! by special message, and word was left that 
you should be brought immediately.” 

“ Then drive there at the fastest pace possible, Tom.” 

“Yes sir!” 

Away they flew, the spirited grays, jolting, and rolling 
the light vehicle toward the twinkling lights, of the 
sombre building, in the crisp cool hours of the morning, 
before dawn. 

Mortal bad! mortal bad! The words surged with 
unpitying distinction through his brain, and it was use- 
less to question farther, but his constant prayer was that 
he might reach her bedside, while she was still alive. 
Very quietly the heavy doors swung back to admit him, 
for he had hourly been expected, since the afternoon 
before. 

The white-capped nurse answered his hurried ques- 
tion, in a low voice, — “ Yes ! she is still alive, but sinking 
rapidly; your parents are here, and have been with her 
almost constantly, for the last three days.” She led the 
way with noiseless footsteps, through the long corridors, 
and at last, ushered him to the door of an apartment, 
where on a low, white draped bed, a beautiful woman lay 
motionless, with closed eyes. His mother was kneeling 
by her side, in silent prayer, while on a couch, in an 
adjoining hall, his venerable father had just closed his 
eyes in temporary sleep. The night nurse in regular 
charge, and the physician of the hour, were the only 
persons visible, in all that vast living, throbbing, human 
hive. The greeting between mother, and son, was in 
low whispers, outside that chamber of death, then he 
softly entered, and lowly bent over that quiet form, and 
silently pressed a kiss upon the white forehead. The 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


99 


large dark eyes suddenly opened full, and wide ; up flew 
the white arms around his bent, neck, with a joyous cry, 

“ Oh, Desmond ! Desmond ! my husband ! You have 
come at last. Thank God, oh, thank God, before it was 
forever too late. I have so hungered, and thirsted and 
prayed, to see you once more! And now that He has 
granted my prayer, I shall die in peace.” 

“ Hush Leonore ! My dear one, don’t talk of dying 
now,” he said in low, soothing tones. “ I am going to 
take you home in the morning, to the dear old home, 
where you will get well, and live many long, happy years 
I trust.” His arms encircled her, her head was pillowed 
on his broad breast, her fair white arms encircled his 
neck, but she looked up solemnly into his agitated face, 
with her large dark eyes, and answered in a low, sad 
tone. 

“ No, Desmond ! My beloved ! Don’t cheat yourself, 
or try to cheat me by those loving words; we cannot 
cheat Death! I shall never again, go home to the 
Pines, the weird, whispering Pines, with their mourn- 
ful music, except as the bride of death, and you a 
mourner. I shall never again behold that beautiful 
Eden, or my own sunny, sunny Spain, except with 
spirit eyes, after this encumbering body has released the 
erring, fretful, misguided soul, that committed so many 
sins, and made you all so wretched, and unhappy, that 
you hated me.” 

“ Hush Leonore ! my wife, my sweetheart ! You was 
forgiven long ago ; and see ! I seal the words, and for- 
giveness, with an earnest, loving kiss. All shall be for- 
gotten, as though it had never been ; only try to get well, 
my wife.” 

“ It is very comforting to hear those precious words 
from your lips, but oh it can never be, my husband; 
remorse, has been busy, and tireless, all these months. 
It has gnawed, and eaten at my proud, bitter heart, and 
sapped the life of the structure, until now, at death’s 


100 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


door, I have only time to tell you of my sorrow, my 
regret, and my keen anguish, for all the terrible wrong, 
and injustice I have done you, and ask your forgiveness, 
ere the repentant heart ceases to beat forever. Do you 
remember Desmond, in the palmy days of our courtship, 
how you used to sing to me, that quaint old Arab song ? 

“ From the Desert I come to thee. 

On a stallion shod with fire ; 

And the winds of heaven are left behind. 

In the speed of my wild desire. 

Under thy window I stand, 

And the midnight hears my cry; 

I love but thee— I love but thee, 

With a love that will never die; 

’Till the sun is old, and the stars are cold, 

And the leaves of the Judgment Book Unfold.” 

I realize now, as I never did before, the rich heart 
treasures of love you lavished upon me, in those days, 
to accept, or reject ; I did not appreciate then, as I ought, 
or as I have since. It is only lately, that I have come 
to know, by studying my own heart, with its intolerable 
pain and wretchedness, and measuring yours by mine, 
when it was too late ; I can not ask you my husband, to 
remember me, with either love or kindness, in your dear 
heart, now ; or to remain single, or loyal to my memory, 
after I have passed beyond your mortal sight— I know 
I have not proved worthy of it. Some nobler, and better 
woman, more worthy of the man I have caused to suffer 
here, will take my place sometime, to comfort, to solace, 
and to bless ; it is better so, my husband. But — oh ! at 
first — for just a little while, at first, my dear one, do 
not quite forget me, or the freshly heaped up mound, 
lying so lonely, neath the desolate, wintry sky out there 
in the distant cemetery. It is the mortal part of me, I 
know, that cries out in my anguish now; soon the hot, 
restless heart will be quiet forever; the warm, living 
fingers that caress you now, will be folded still enough at 
last, — I shall have passed beyond it all, and then, I shall 
not know or care. And oh ! do not let our darling child 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES ioi 

quite despise her impetuous, erring mother. I am glad, 
now, that my brother failed to abduct her and take her 
to Spain; I leave her in wise, and loving hands. God 
bless you my motherless baby.” 

Her voice was the only one, whose tones were clear, 
and even; her face calm, though white in the throes of 
death. The last sacredness of this scene, was witnessed 
only by those two. The mother and nurse, by silent 
intuition, had slipped out in the reception room beyond, 
and shut the door, waiting until they were summoned. 
The summons never came. They only entered, when the 
low voice had ceased in its pitiful refrain, of sorrow, 
and imploring forgiveness, and the long silence that 
followed, was so deep, and impressive, as to alarm them, 
and then they found the breath had forever fluttered 
out of the frail, beautiful body, which Desmond still 
held in a tight embrace to his breaking heart, while the 
slender fingers, that even now, clasped his neck, could 
scarcely be unlocked, in their rigid tenacity. 

Leonore was dead. 

When do we willingly say farewell forever? Not 
when the laughing face and bright eyes are turned to- 
ward us, ere they speed away on a happy vacation ; even 
then, there is a lingering tone of sadness, lest they never 
return alive. Is it when we bid the happy bride adieu, 
at the door, as she turns away, all smiles, to take her 
honeymoon journey, with her best beloved? No! not 
then even, though we smile through our tears. 

Is it then, when we gaze our last, on the still, white, 
patient face, and gray hair, over whose wrinkled fair- 
ness, and clasping hands, our hot, unrestrained tears, 
drop for the last time, in the stillness of death? It 
must be, for we know, though our hearts break it 
is forever — though it is not farewell, we say, but that 
inexpressibly sadder, deeper, word, Good-bye, — Good- 
bye, and in our hearts there is an added grave, and over 
it is written the name of the beloved one. We will pass 


102 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


over the solemn details of the sad, gloomy funeral, whose 
long black line of carriages, passed out through the wide 
arched gates of the old manor which so lately had been 
Leonore’s beautiful home, and whose glorious loveliness, 
as she had prophesied, she would never more behold 
with mortal eyes. Of the Infinite wisdom, or justice, or 
injustice, of the Power, that had taken the frail, erring, 
beautiful woman from his life forever, Desmond ques- 
tioned not ; his heart, and senses, seemed benumbed with 
grief, and the strangeness, of the swiftly crowding 
events. He silently brooded over it all, with an unreal- 
izing sense of practical every-day duties, until the near 
approach of their financial difficulties, again, brought 
him back with a shock, to the responsibilities of life, and 
earthly care, once more. 

In the family burial plot of the Sinclair’s, in the dis- 
tant Cemetery, was an added grave ; and over the grassy 
mound of the silent one beneath, whose dark, rich 
beauty, was in life, a glory, and a curse alike, rose a 
broken shaft of gleaming white, in the glittering sun- 
light, and partially emerged from its imprisoning chry- 
salis, in a fissure of the marble, with great purple wings 
outspread, exquisitely chiseled on the crest of the stone, 
was a struggling butterfly. Beneath, on the smooth, 
polished surface, was the one name, “Leonore.” And 
under this the legend, “Was it fate ? — Or Nemesis.” 

Poor, unhappy Leonore! Forever stilled, was the 
wild, wild throbs of that proud young heart! Done 
forever, with life, and light, and reason; alike indif- 
ferent to love, or hate, or sorrow, now. The clouded 
spirit has passed forever beyond that mysterious border 
land, from which no mortal has ever yet returned; its 
mystery we cannot fathom, and at best, we can only 
wonder, and — wait. 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


103 


CHAPTER XII. 

FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES. 

“ The stormy hair of the wind is wet. 

As he dashes his tears in the Sea.— Anonymous. 

Beyond Desmond’s power to avert was the heavy 
drain upon his finances, caused by the forced seclusion, 
illness, and unexpected death, and gorgeous funeral of 
Leonore, as befitted one of the house of Sinclair. 

He had expected to meet with no difficulty in dis- 
charging to the last item, the wretched indebtedness, 
that still hung relentlessly, over the old place. Now, 
however, he found himself just as powerless to remove 
the terrible incubus, as before; only one source of 
practical relief, presented itself to him ; yet it was utterly 
distasteful to his refined instincts, and home training, 
but try as he did, to put the thought far from him, yet 
it persistently returned again, and again, as a possible 
means of relieving this awful strain, which was slowly 
wearing him out, mentally, and physically. A great 
horse-race was to be held on a certain date, in which 
some of the most blooded racers were booked, famous 
alike, both for speed, and a long, and noted pedigree. 

The thought constantly haunted him, to enter Black 
Bess, his daughter’s beautiful, spirited companion, (his 
birthday gift to her some years previous) . High-strung, 
untamable, and uncontrollable to others, she was love, 
gentleness, and human devotion to Angel, obeying her 
voice, and soft white hand. Then the perplexing ques- 
tion arose, if he put this scheme into practice, who could 
be found, capable of riding her? No jockey, however 


104 THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 

experienced with other horses, could control this 
splendid, high-bred creature, who acknowledged no 
master, or mistress, obeyed no other guiding hand, or 
tone of no other voice, but the loving one of his beauti- 
ful sylph like daughter, “ The Angel of the Pines ” as 
she was known through all that southern region. He 
had no doubt, but Bess could win her laurels, — but, 
would she? Would not the mettlesome creature balk, 
or refuse to move at all, perhaps throw the rider, or 
under whip, and spur, rush out of all prescribed rules, 
any one of these alternatives, were possible, and would 
surely lose the race, which meant so much to him and 
his. These perplexing thoughts were not very easily, or 
satisfactorily settled in his mind ; but when he attempted 
to turn his attention to some other more favorable plan, 
to extricate himself from the awful difficulties sur- 
rounding him, the more persistently would his thoughts 
return to this possible success, and deliverance from his 
troubles in this present crisis, and at last it became a 
confident issue with him, and then he set about carrying 
the plan into execution, secretly, nervously, and with- 
out consulting the head of the house, as was his usual 
custom, when undertaking any new enterprise. 

Beautiful, black Bess, the glossy, nervous imperious 
creature, all love, and docility to her golden haired 
mistress, was actually entered for the race, a young boy 
jockey engaged to train, and ride her for the approach- 
ing contest, which had drawn countless crowds from all 
over the entire country. But black Bess, did not take 
kindly to her young master, and though he wheedled, 
and coaxed her with sugar, and sweets and apples, 
though he was kindness itself to her, there was ever a 
look in her intelligent dark eyes, as she rolled them upon 
him, that warned him to be on his guard, that she did 
not like him, and it caused him to feel very uncertain 
of winning, in the approaching issue. Meantime, the 
betting went merrily on, among these vitally interested. 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


105 


Silverheels, seemed to be the favorite, and bets were 
high, and lively on her; Graybeard was nearly even, 
and Zanthia and Creel, were chalked up, with a number 
of others on the blackboard, to be increased, or trans- 
ferred to entirely to dark horse, Tempest, or black Bess, 
as their moods changed. Then came the rating on Black 
Bess ! “ Fll bet 5 to 20, etc., and money was staked, and 
changed hands, on the nervous, restless creature, who 
missed her little mistress, and neighed, and continually 
mourned for her, and would not be comforted. It 
lacked but two days of the famous races, when a 
thunderbolt from a clear sky, electrified Desmond Sin- 
clair, and almost crushed him. Bob, the jockey, who was 
to ride Bess, was taken very suddenly, and very mysteri- 
ously ill. Stricken down in a moment as it were, from 
perfect health, and lithe activity, to insensibility, and 
benumbed prostration, whose recovery was doubtful, and 
indefinite, and if favorable at all, was not likely to occur 
until long after the close of the races. Immediately 
after this, came a flying messenger, informing him, that 
the favorite of the betting men, Black Bess, had also 
been as mysteriously struck with sickness, and the 
opinion of the stablemen was, that she had been pur- 
posely doped. Desmond had conscienciously absented 
himself from the grounds, for the honor, and dignity 
of the family, not wishing to identify himself with 
horse-racers, or sporting men generally, but leaving a 
trusted representative, to look after his interests entirely. 

Now, however, he started immediately, for the scene 
of disaster; for his all — the old Manor — the future 
protection of its old gray inmates, were at stake ; for all 
depended on this race. If he lost it now, — Great God ! 

He closed his eyes, and shut his teeth hard. Well he 
knew in that supreme moment, the final ending of it 
all — the cold dark river — death and oblivion. But half 
way there, he met another messenger, coming at a some- 
what slower pace, to announce that a mistake had been 


10 6 THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 

made, that it was not Black Bess that had been tampered 
with, but another horse hearing the name of Black 
Beauty, in a near-by stall, who had been taken suddenly 
ill, and now lay prone upon the floor, trembling with 
spasms and they thought there had been a mistake made 
between the two horses in giving the fatal dope. 

The facts were speedily corroborated by Desmond, who 
’though very thankful that it was not his animal, was 
deeply moved by sincere sympathy, and sorrow, for the 
sufferings of the poor dumb animal, lying so helpless 
before them all, a victim to man’s unfeeling duplicity, 
and heartless greed for gold. While a skilled veteri- 
narian was relieving somewhat the sufferings of the poor 
beast, Desmond had Bess removed to another stall, and 
a special watchman appointed, to take charge of her 
entirely, to prevent another fiendish attempt upon her 
life, no matter what the motive, or the price. 

As yet, no other jockey had been engaged, hoping 
that Bob would rally, and be able to take his place with 
the others, and especially as Bess had become familiar 
With him, and would probably be more submissive to him, 
than with a stranger. So the brief time passed, until it 
was only two days before the day set for the exciting 
test, when Cicely, (whose pretematurally sharp ears, 
were always wide open, and ready to take in everything 
that chanced to pass along) suddenly drew Angel out 
to the stone wall, that separated the level meadow from 
the rear garden, and quietly astounded that young lady 
with some startling facts, that she picked up in the con- 
versations between the stable boy, and the coachman, 
while she was high, and dry on the hay-mow, over head ; 
facts which covered all the possible conditions; Black 
Bess, the sick boy, Bob, and her father’s probable de- 
feat in the race. “ And now ” declared that matter of 
fact, freckled faced girl, “ Some one has got to ride 
that horse, and ride it to win ! Now who is that some 
one going to be? Your father must not lose this race — 


THE ANGEL OE THE PINES 


107 


no not for his life. The question I ask rests with you 
alone to answer. Angel ! who is going to win it ? Who 
is going to ride that horse ? ” 

Angel looked at her, with wide open horrified eyes, 
while Cicely explained all the details, and she understood 
the whole situation. Then she came forward and said 
very quietly but just as decidedly , — “ I will ” 

“ Spoken like your father’s own girl. I knew you 
would! With your hair as yaller as his wavin’ wheat- 
fields over yan, and your spirit just as true and brave.” 
"Put it there!” she said, rather more slangily than 
elegant, as she extended her hand to Angel. Lillian’s 
little soft white hand was laid in hers and quickly cov- 
ered by the other hand for a moment, only to be kissed 
and caressed, and wet with thankful tears a moment 
after. 

“ Cicely ! dear good girl, you have taught me expert 
horsemanship, for no other object, except fun, and your 
love for me, as a companion; now the knowledge is a 
boon to me in time of great peril, and reflects a lasting 
credit upon you. I shall not dishonor your teachings, or 
disappoint you; I will win this race, save my father’s 
honor, my grand-parents’ home, and all these beautiful 
southern acres, (and her blue eyes lingered lovingly 
over the sunny slopes and wooded hills,) or die in try- 
ing. Bess will obey me better than any one else on 
earth because she loves me best, and together, we will 
save the homestead. Cice, wish me success with the 
silent, fervent prayer in your throat, in the supreme mo- 
ment of all, that I do not fail.” 

"I do! I do! and I will! I will! both then and 
now ! ” 

Then they began to make their plans and arrange- 
ments, to take a short cut across the fields, wrapped in 
dark cloaks, unobserved by any one, direct to Bob’s home, 
borrow his clothes and the ribbon colors representing the 
Sinclair horse, and Cicely’s skillful fingers would make 


108 THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 

them fit Lillian’s slender form, and so disguised, she 
would take her place among the jockeys. 

That night their humane intentions were put into suc- 
cessful execution. Just after dark, two dimly robed fig- 
ures emerged from the shadow of the Pines and pro- 
ceeded swiftly across the meadow in the direction of the 
clustered steeples, rising in the moon-lit distance. All 
seemed to progress smoothly until they were brought to 
a sudden halt by a figure of the masculine gender, who 
proved to be the guard at the gates near the stables. He 
suddenly ceased to question them, when their garb dis- 
closed their sex. Then, Cicely interviewed him for a 
few moments and to the point, as to the particular resi- 
dence of Boh. 

“What do you want to know for?” again suspic- 
iously questioned the guard. 

“Because we want to know, that’s all,” answered 
Cicely, demurely. 

“ But why ? for what reason ? ” 

“To see if he is to ride the Sinclair horse to-mor- 
row ? ” 

“ I can tell you that he is not, for he is sick.” 

“ I know he is ick, that is the reason I want to see him. 
He is a particular friend of mine.” 

“ Oh he is, is he ? ” 

« Yes ! » 

“ A sweetheart, maybe ? ” 

“ Maybe ! ” averred Cicely. 

“Well, who are you, anyway?” 

“ A couple of girls ! ” 

“ Is it possible ? ” 

“Yep!” 

“Well, where do you live?” 

“In a house.” 

“ Why, how very strange ! ” (with a grin)'. 

“ Why ? did you think we lived out o’ door or in the 
woods ? ” retorted Cicely. 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


109 

"Well, it’s hard to tell which, in the present case; 
what’s your names, anyway?” 

“ Our names ? well, I’ll tell you if you’ll swear to keep 
it a dead secret. Will you?” 

" Yes ! if it is so very important.” 

"Well it is important, very.” 

" All right ! I swear ! now fire away.” 

" Well ! I’m Mr. Potter of Texas ! and she’s Mr. 
Barnes of New York,” pointing in a careless way to 
Angel over her shoulder, who had stood a silent and as- 
tonished listener to this lengthy colloquy. 

The man looked at her, perfectly amazed for a mo- 
ment, then burst out in a long, loud peal of laughter, 
with the added remark, " You’re crazy.” 

"All right,” replied Cicely. "But you hain’t told 
us where Bob lives yet ? ” 

" Oh, he lives over there,” motioning carelessly to a 
row of houses on the opposite side of the street, as he 
turned away. 

" But which one ? ” persisted Cicely. " He don’t live 
in all of ’em, does he ? ” 

" See here girl ! there is no danger but you will get 
through the world some way, if you keep on like this. 
You see that house yonder, with a small yard and 
a shaky fence around it; the gate wide open, hanging 
by one hinge ? ” 

"Yes!” 

" Well ! that ain’t the house he lives in, but the one 
next to it is. Now follow your nose, walk perfectly 
straight and you’ll get there, I hope.” 

" I hope so too, with such nice directions as you have 
given me,” was the parting retort of Cicely. " Come 
on, Mr. Barnes of New York,” and she started to go in 
the designated direction, leaving the guard standing 
with his mouth open, and a queer expression on his 
homely face. 

It developed some scientific questionings and answers. 


no THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 

too, on Cicely’s part, in the interview with Bob and his 
mother, but in the end she was victorious, as she gen- 
erally was in any undertaking, and soon afterwards they 
were cautiously, but swiftly striding homeward, with a 
neat bundle carried in the arms of the older girl. 

In the seclusion of Angel’s room, Cicely fitted the gar- 
ments to the slender little body, stitching away in the 
long hours of the night, and they were all ready for 
the coming event, before the dark earnest-faced girl 
closed her eyes in slumber. 

The race was to take place at 2 P. M. sharp ; and at 
the appointed time, a slender, delicate boy, was seen 
approaching the enclosure, accompanied by a dark-robed 
girl who was supposed to be the boy’s older sister. They 
stopped at a little distance from the paddock and the 
older girl was heard to say, as a parting injunction, — 
“ Remember ! I am here to watch and see every move 
you make; if you falter, or lose this race, you know 
the ruin that will follow, and you know what I have 
sworn to do, and I will do it too.” 

“ Never you fear, Cice, Bess and I will win or die in 
the attempt.” 

“ Just then the familiar neigh of a horse was heard, 
and the swift clatter of hoofs, and beautiful, loving Bess 
had broken away from the groom who led her forth, and 
with true animal instinct, had recognized her young 
mistress through all her disguise, and proved her faith- 
ful allegiance. 

The meeting was affecting in the extreme ; Bess with 
a glad neigh, laid her glossy head on Angel’s shoulder, 
and with that peculiar muffled mouthing, so natural to a 
horse, was caressing her face, her hair and her neck, 
showing more plainly than words could, her adoring 
love for her beloved mistress, whom she had missed and 
mourned so long. 

The amazed spectators looked on in silence; betting 
men and the owners of favorites with long pedigrees, 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


hi 


jealously hoping and staking for the highest winnings, 
beheld this manifestation of dumb love, with speechless 
astonishment. But when the supposed boy jockey, threw 
his arms around the neck of the beautiful creature, and 
pressed his lips upon the soft, velvety muzzle so near his 
cheek, the sudden cheer that rent the clear, autumnal air, 
was simply deafening. Handkerchiefs were fluttered, 
hats were thrown in the air, and amid it all, Angel hid 
her blushing face in the glossy mane, and with one arm 
still around her neck, took her designated place for the 
race. 

The signal was given, and gracefully, without effort, 
Angel sprang into place on the back of Bess, and like 
an arrow shot from a bow, she was stretching away, 
mingling with the long list of many colors, all speeding 
toward the goal, with one purpose, one aim in view. 

At the first round, Bess come in just a little behind ; 
Angel’s eyes searched the sea of faces near her, for one 
black robed form, then she spied the silent one, with 
one arm outstretched, and one stem white finger pointed 
accusingly toward her. 

Again the signal was given, and again black Bess’s 
heels cleft the air; she seemed now to understand and 
enter into the test, with human intelligence and enthu- 
siasm, and this time she came in, neck and neck with 
even the foremost horse, Silver-heels. Then her rider 
dismounted, and taking the beautiful head in her two 
small hands, was seen to look earnestly into the large 
dark eyes, then apparently bend forward and whisper 
something into the animal’s ear. If it could have been 
heard in that din of noise, they would have known 
Angel’s anguished appeal to her childhood’s companion. 

“ Bess, my darling, you must come in ahead the next 
time; remember if you love me (and I know you do) 
you must win in this last round, over all the others; 
everything at home depends on you, and I love you, Bess, 
I love you ! ” 


112 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


A soft muffled whinny announced that she seemed to 
understand the gravity of the situation, then away the 
beautiful creature sped again with the others, in a mad 
whirl down the long, far-reaching track. Once the slen- 
der rider was seen to lean down toward her head, as 
though entreating, or encouraging a faster pace on the 
home stretch. And certainly the black head visibly 
straightened out, the slim ears lay back, the dark eyes 
flashed, and with an intelligence that appeared to re- 
spond to the heart-breaking appeal made her, she 
scarcely seemed to touch the ground, coming in head 
and neck of others that were before in the lead, and with 
a little graceful spurt, pass easily under the wire, dis- 
tancing all competitors. 

Then again a wild shout that rent the blue heavens, 
announced the general feeling of rejoicing, over this tri- 
umphant victory of the beautiful, trembling creature, 
and her slender, boyish rider. Hats and canes were 
thrown high in the air, handkerchiefs fluttered in every 
direction, hysterical women wept audibly, and excite- 
ment and enthusiasm was at its highest pitch. Those 
nearest sprang forward, with glad cries, to lift from the 
saddle, and carry the victorious winner on their shoul- 
ders to the grandstand ; but ere they could compass this 
act of gallantry the little figure suddenly reeled in the 
saddle and slid unconscious in a limp heap to the 
ground. The close-fitting jockey cap, too, was disar- 
ranged, and the imprisoned golden curls fell in a wealth 
of glittering, waving sunshine around the slim waist. 

Amid the deathly silence that suddenly fell upon that 
vast concourse of people, was heard the hoarse exclama- 
tion from those nearest, as they lifted the slight burden 
in their strong arms, — “ Great God ! it is Desmond Sin- 
clair’s Angel!” 

The blue eyes were closed now, that had looked so ap- 
pealingly forth on the dazzling sunshine lying over that 
race track, and the sweet scarlet lips, that had breathed a 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 113 

prayer for victory a few moments before, were white 
now, in the hue of death. 

Cicely was instantly on the spot, unceremoniously 
thrusting aside the closely pressing throng, with the 
words — “ Stand aside, she is mine,” and bending lowly 
over the prostrate form, she pillowed the lovely blond 
head in her arms, calling her by every endearing name. 

Strong men held their breath hard, and brushed tears 
from softened eyes, while a wide opening was made by 
the reverent men, who with uncovered heads, formed a 
bier of their arms and carried the lovely, unconscious 
one to the nearest hotel. 

Cicely walked beside her, wringing her hands, and 
Bess immediately in the rear, softly whinnying, and won- 
dering what ailed her beloved young mistress. At this 
juncture a handsome blond man came wildly tearing 
through the crowd that followed that strange procession, 
uttering the frenzied words — “My child! my child! 
For God’s sake, let me get to my child ! ” 

It was a scene that would never be forgotten by those 
who witnessed it, and God grant that a similar one may 
never again be enacted. 

Very gently was the little unconscious form laid upon 
a white draped bed in a large, airy, quiet room at the 
hotel, the doors closed to all but the despairing father, 
the eminent physician, who was called, Cicely, and the 
temporary nurse. 


THE ANGEL OR THE PINES 


114 


CHAPTER XIII. 
angel’s illness. 

“ Sing to her softly, oh ! whispering leaves; 

Sing to her— sigh to her— woo her with love, 

Like a mother’s soft lullaby soothing her fears, 

Touch her lids lightly, oh, whispering leaves.” 

It was long ere the quivering lids lifted in that deep, 
trance-like swoon, and the blue eyes looked forth won- 
deringly on the silent, grief-stricken group in that dark- 
ened room. The doctor restrained with a gentle pressure 
of the arm, the forward spring of the agonized father, 
and the glad cry of — “ Oh Angel ! my darling,” lest it 
have the effect of sudden shock, upon his weak young 
patient. He hinted at internal injuries and a naturally 
weak heart, and all outward excitement at present must 
be repressed, and the fair invalid must not attempt to 
converse or ask questions. 

Meantime, the crowd had surged to the very doors of 
the hotel, a curious medley of hard-handed laboring 
men, in the garb of their various callings, and the south- 
ern gentleman of luxurious ease, with white hands and 
aristocratic bearing, waiting almost breathless, reverent 
and extremely quiet, for the verdict of life, or — Oh God 
forbid! — death of the fair sweet girl, whose story of 
unselfish sacrifice and devotion to a forlorn hope had 
taken deep hold of their rugged, appreciative natures. 

“Papa, did Bess win? Did we save the old home? 
The voice was very weak and low, but clear and sweet, 
in its pure tones. 

The doctor looked at Desmond and nodded his head, 
adding — “Just a few words — not many.” 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


«5 

Desmond was already kneeling beside the dear child, 
his arms around her, and in words just above a whisper, 
he answered, — " Yes my Angel, my darling; you won 
the purse, and a heavy one too. But don’t think of that, 
my pet ; only try to get over this weakness and get strong 
and well again.” 

She lifted her brows in incredulous protest. "Get 
well, papa ? I am not even ill ! ” 

The doctor touched Desmond on the shoulder. "I 
must forbid any more conversation for the present, Mr. 
Sinclair — and thank God, she will live now unless some 
unlooked-for development intervenes.” 

Desmond rose from his knees, comforted, hopeful, and 
happy at heart, both with the doctor’s reassuring words 
and the glad knowledge of the restoration of his darling 
child from that almost fatal swoon, to life, and light, 
and reason once more. Pressing a long, lingering kiss 
upon her white forehead, he silently thanked an Unseen 
Power, as he had never thanked him before, for the prec- 
ious life saved, instead of fluttering out over the un- 
known sea, lily bordered and white with blossoms, into 
the Great Beyond. 

Just then came another message of inquiry from the 
patient crowd outside those closed doors, as to the con- 
dition of the beautiful invalid, in whom all alike were 
so interested. The doctor arose, and quietly left the 
room, and soon afterward appeared on an upper veranda, 
and in a few kindly words, told the assembled people, 
that the dear girl was somewhat better, but not yet out 
of danger, and all demonstrations of a heart-felt, but 
noisy nature must be sternly suppressed, as the least ex- 
citement might prove fatal, even now. 

A big burly blacksmith removed his old battered hat, 
and bowing his head exclaimed reverently, — "Thank 
God, mates, but thank Him very still, — no noise, for 
she lives, and she might have been dead; now come 
home.” 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


116 

A touching procession of bare-headed men, represent- 
ing nearly every walk in life, stepping lightly, with 
muffled footsteps, passed out to their respective homes, 
and the space so densely crowded a moment before, was 
empty, still, and silent. 

Around their firesides that night the tale of the young 
girl’s bravery, and ride to victory, was told in as many 
variations and versions, as the imaginations of those 
who witnessed the ride, and almost fatal ending. 

Lillian’s wistful eyes followed her father, as he seated 
himself a little distance from her, then her loving glance 
rested on Cicely, who had all the time been kneeling 
silently by the bedside, heorically endeavoring to re- 
press the choking sobs that almost overpowered her. 
One little slim white hand reached out, and softly 
rested on Cicely’s dark head, while the weak voice just 
whispered , — “ Poor Cice ! ” Only two words ! but oh — a 
world of meaning, of tender, touching loyalty, and com- 
rade-ship, was expressed in both tone and words. 

Cicely could not trust herself to speak, or even raise 
her head, lest she betray her pent-up emotions in a burst 
of tears and sobs she could no longer control ; but she 
drew the small hand from her head, down under her 
lips, and (as once before by the garden wall one day,) 
she covered it with kisses, and tears. 

The doctor’s necessary absence to visit another patient, 
was very brief; whatever were the anxious feelings of 
those present on his return, it was outwardly restrained, 
and comparative quiet reigned. 

The dark-fringed lids were beginning to droop over 
the violet blue eyes and the breath came natural and 
restful. Cicely rose from her knees, and gently, almost 
without motion, she placed the tear-wet hand over the 
loving heart, which returned an answering pressure as 
she did so, and then the fair, sweet, southern blossom, 
slept the calm restful slumber that was so much needed 
just then to fit her for the journey home. 


THE ANGEL OF! THE PINES 


11 Z 

Refreshingly the soft breeze wafted in through the 
large open windows, laden with the perfume of southern 
flowers, and touched lightly the white cheek of that other 
dainty, southern flower, who now appeared to be on the 
confines of that mysterious border land, of which we 
know so little, and of whose reality at best, we can only 
wonder, and doubt. 

Again the doctor gently pressed the slender white 
wrist, while Desmond and Cicely watched him with 
anxious eyes and silent lips, fearing the verdict, if in- 
deed he ever rendered it. 

Tenderly laying the little hand down, after what 
seemed an eternity to their strained hearts, he announced 
in a very oracular tone, yet of evident relief : — 

“ Her pulse is good ; and I think she will awaken from 
this natural, and refreshing slumber, very much im- 
proved, and considerably like herself. Meantime, she 
must be kept quiet during the night, and I hope in the 
morning to find she is sufficiently improved to warrant 
her removal home with plenty of supporting cushions, 
in an easy carriage. I shall return later on to see if 
there has been any change either way.” Turning to the 
nurse, he added : — ■“ I leave her for the present in your 
careful and experienced hands; see to it that nothing 
occurs to disturb or awaken her. This sleep is nature’s 
powerful restorative far beyond the aid of any medicine, 
and it must not be broken, except she awakens of her 
own will.” Then bowing lightly, he picked up his hat 
and gloves and departed. 

The agonized father crept softly to the bedside, taking 
his silent position there, through the long watches of 
the starlit night ; Cicely knelt at the foot of the bed, a 
motionless figure with face buried in the soft white 
draperies. 

But some hours later, when he called, as he had prom- 
ised to do, he found Angel awake, but drowsy, and nerv- 
ously starting at every sound. Her medicines had beer* 


IIS THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 

given regularly since awakening, but she had refused 
refreshment. 

The doctor sat down by her side, watching the white 
face very earnestly; he was evidently disturbed, for he 
did not like this strange drowsiness, this numbing leth- 
argy, settling down upon her waking senses which should 
have been dispelled by her long undisturbed slumber. 
The little hand lay limp and motionless on the white 
counterpane, and her breathing was soft and natural. 
Still the doctor sat there, studying the puzzling symp- 
toms, and at last he gave orders to have the tonics 
changed, also to be given more frequent. To a few 
questions asked, the sweet voice answered low, but indif- 
ferently. After a long period of grave and silent 
watching, and a few strict orders given the nurse, he 
withdrew from the room. 

Desmond, with strained and tense attitude, had no- 
ticed every movement, and now he hastily followed the 
retreating figure. The voice was hoarse, and unnatural 
in its agonized expression of inquiry, for all the pent-up 
love of a breaking heart was revealed in the trembling 
tones, as he asked — “What is it, doctor? You don’t 
mean me to understand she is any worse, do you? ” 

The doctor laid a sympathetic hand on Desmond’s 
shoulder. “ In some respects her symptoms are better, 
stronger,” he replied ; “ in others not so favorable ; and 
while I will not say she is in any immediate danger, yet 
I tell you frankly, Sinclair, I do not like this sudden, 
unnatural stupor, which seems to affect her brain, and 
her heart alike. A few hours ago she was decidedly 
better; I have changed the potions, and hope to find a 
very favorable effect from their administering, in the 
morning; in fact, I think I may predict a decided im- 
provement then. Meantime, we will hope for the best; 
you, and the young girl had better retire for the balance 
of the night; you can do no good sitting up and the 
nurse will attend to everything; .Good-night” 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


1 19 

The door closed softly, but it also closed on every ray 
of light and hope in Desmond’s breaking heart, for the 
life of his beloved child. 

He did not follow the M.D.’s advice, to retire, neither 
was Cicely told to do so either; the nurse’s sympathies 
were with the stricken watchers, and she tacitly allowed 
them to remain. Once she mentioned to Desmond to lie 
down on the couch near one of the broad windows, but 
he silently shook his head ; but he softly touched Cicely’s 
shoulder and whispered to the grieving girl to lie down 
and rest, for the morrow would need her services greatly, 
in behalf of moving Lillian. She obeyed without a pro- 
test, and soon the lids had drooped over the large dark, 
tired eyes. 

Fitfully Angel slumbered, waking often only to sink 
again into a half-unconscious stupor. The strengthen- 
ing tonic was given regularly, and as the hours wore 
away, there came a change, and she seemed to pass into 
a sound, healthy, refreshing sleep, and when the doctor 
called in the dewy morning, he found her with bright 
eyes, red lips, and animated manner. 

"Well, little girl! you are surely out of the woods 
now ! ” was his greeting, after he had carefully timed 
the beats of the white wrist with his watch. A very un- 
prosaic announcement, perhaps, but down in his warm 
old heart, he devoutly thanked God for the life of the 
fair young girl lying so white and frail upon the pillow. 

"When do you think she could be taken home?” 
asked Desmond, with a sob of joy on his quivering lips. 

"If nothing serious occurs now, I think she can be 
safely conveyed in an easy carriage, very slowly this 
afternoon.” 

It was with great self-control that Desmond restrained 
his impulse to shout his joy over the happy verdict of 
the doctor’s words; but Cicely, poor, self-reproachful 
Cicely, simply pressed her lips silently, with a repressed 
sob, on the white forehead, which the golden hair shaded 


120 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


like an immortal halo. Not a word did she speak, lest 
she should disturb the weakness of her rest, but she knew 
Angel would understand ; and Angel did know, and un- 
derstand the loving loyalty of her sacrifices. 

Late that afternoon, the family carriage, with its 
ample dimensions filled with cushions, easy and com- 
fortable, conveyed that fair southern flower to the stately 
mansion among the pines, — that mansion that had been 
so dearly won, and saved, by the hopeless sacrifice of 
her sweet young life; too late — too late, had come the 
costly sacrifice — too late the voluntary offering of that 
sensitive, sympathetic young heart. Too late to save 
the innocent life with its boundless wealth of love, 
purity, and sweetness; too late to save her, were the 
lavishly given ministrations of comfort, and touching 
kindness. Too late — ah yes, Eternally too late! but 
those who love thee, Lillian, know it not; for a brief 
time, dear, they will smile and hope, and joy, over thy 
fancied recovery let them do so, dear one, but the blue 
eyes, even now, almost looking into Eternity, knows it 
cannot be. The rift in the golden clouds has given thee 
a glimpse of the beautiful land beyond, where the fret, 
and worry, that briefly came into thy young life, will 
trouble thee, no more forever. But to those who are 
left behind, stricken dumb with anguish unspeakable, 
the awakening will be sudden and — terrible. 

Somewhere, these immortal words are sacredly re- 
corded — 


Greater love hath no man, than to give his life for another.’ 


THE ANGEL OE THE PINES 


121 


CHAPTEB XIV. 

CRUSHED HOPES. 

Sooner, or later, the sun will shine, 

With dazzling warmth on that grave of mine; 

Sooner, or later, with half poised wing, 

The blue-bird above my grave will sing; 

I shall not heed them where I lie— 

None of their sounds will signify; 

None of these beautiful things will know 
How soundly their lover sleeps below.— Anon. 

For a brief period after Lillian’s return, she appeared 
to recuperate and develop into her old bright self again, 
except that she was weak, easily tiring after a slight ex- 
ertion. 

The meeting between herself and Bess, was peculiarly 
affecting; she walked out to the meadow gate, where 
Bess always waited so patiently every morning for her 
young mistress, for her expectant canter. A soft whinny 
greeted the white robed girl, with her aureola of golden 
hair, as she approached her glossy favorite. Softly the 
velvety muzzle touched her delicate cheek with mute ca- 
resses; gently she laid her beautiful head on the fair, 
girlish shoulder, and lovingly touched the soft golden 
hair, always with that peculiar neighing sound, so ex- 
pressive of a horse, either in delight or distress. Angel’s 
arms encircled her neck, and she was talking in a low, 
confidential tone, telling Bess particulars of the family 
embarrassments lately, which she had not considered 
necessary to acquaint her with before, and finally, con- 
gratulating the intelligent creature on her noble achieve- 
ment. 

“ Bess, — dear Bess, you out-did yourself that day, you 


122 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


darling; yon was just splendid! How you did race to 
win the old homestead. You knew just what I said, 
when I whispered in your ear, didn't you? (A soft low 
whinny answered her, as Bess mouthed the white cheek.) 
And when I leaned forward in the saddle, and cried out 
to you in my anguish, to hurry faster on the last home 
stretch, could you hear me, Bess ? did you know what I 
said ? I think you did, for your heels flew as they never 
did before, and you won the day for us." 

The soft mouth fondled the shining hair, and then 
rested still upon the white neck, amid the beautiful 
tangle. 

“ Oh Bess ! my pet, nothing can ever repay you for 
this devotion to an almost hopeless cause, or your chiv- 
alry and loyalty to your young mistress. Bess, I love 
you better than you can ever know or realize; look at 
these broad acres that you saved, my Bess; the yellow 
wheat fields, and the rustling corn, — yes, and the very 
meadow where we have raced so much, was saved by 
your speed. Only for you, my beautiful darling, they 
would have been swept away from us, and our dear ones 
now have been homeless. No ! I can't ride to-day, dear; 
(as the low coaxing whinny seemed to invite the lovely 
girl for a gallop.) I am too tired now. Some other 
day, Cice and I will try your speed; but I wanted to 
thank you, Bess dear, when no one would hear what I 
said to you, for I knew you would understand. And 
now good-bye, until some other time, when I feel 
stronger." 

Her beautiful arms were around the graceful neck, 
and her white face pressed against the mare's head for 
a moment, then, slow and weakly, she retraced her fal- 
tering steps toward the house, with Bess’s head still 
leaning over the garden gate. 

But Angel Lillian did not get stronger, as she pre- 
dicted in her loving interview that day ; but instead, she 
perceptibly grew weaker, and more languid; and al- 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


123 


though she did not complain, and nothing serious could 
be located by the family physician, in his diagnosis of 
her case, yet the fair girl continued to fail, the colorless 
cheek grew more transparent — the step slower — and the 
sweet, musical voice lost its old time joyous ring, while 
there crept into its low tones now, ever a sad touching 
cadence, like the dying wail of the wind, after the storm 
has passed. True, she walked out in the sunshine yet, 
and sometimes was driven slowly in the carriage, along 
the pleasant country highway, but she never raced with 
Bess in the meadow land again as she had so often done 
in health. One day indeed, she was lifted lightly on the 
beautiful creature's back, and although she held the 
silken bridle rein in her weak hands, it was with her 
father, and faithful Cicely, walking slowly on either side, 
keeping the fair frail body steadily poised, watchful, lest 
she faint or fall. 

It was not long before the sad voice exclaimed, — 
“ Papa, I am so tired ; please take me home," and Bess 
waiting daily at the meadow gate, never felt the light 
weight of her young mistress again. 

Too well Desmond knew, and felt in the keen an- 
guish of his great loyal heart, the full meaning of the 
words, “ I am so tired, papa." Every day those words 
were repeated, and reverberated through his throbbing 
brain ; and yet he knew he was powerless to avert the ap- 
proaching doom awaiting his beloved child. All in vain 
the trembling tones of his aged father broke into sobs, 
and cries of bitter agony, as upon his bended knees, he 
begged and implored of Divine Aid, if possible, to let 
this “ bitter cup pass"; if possible, to spare this little 
“ shorn lamb " to the breaking hearts that loved her so. 
But no answer came to the daily sobbing supplication, 
the Divine ears seemed deaf, and the All-seeing eyes saw 
not. 

Lillian constantly failed, until now she no longer rode 
or walked out in the beautiful Southland sunshine. The 


124 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


long hours were spent in her little white draped room, 
with its beautiful appointments, where she lay weak and 
white, on the pillowed couch, sometimes with gasping 
breath, except occasionally in the morning, or at set of 
sun, she would sit by the window in the large arm-chair. 
And though all the household were generally silent as to 
her approaching dissolution, not saying much, yet their 
breaking hearts knew now, that she was not long for 
this world, and that the end was very near. 

One day when Lillian felt slightly better, but unusu- 
ally restless, a day that Cicely would never forget to 
the end of her weary existence, while the faithful girl 
sat fanning the white face, so slowly, but surely fading 
from earth, Angel spoke to her on subjects she had 
never before broached to her. 

“ Cicely,” she said, “ dear, kind, loving Cicely, you 
have been my true and loyal comrade for years; even 
before I can remember, you were my playmate and pro- 
tector. I love you, Cicely, and I know you love me; 
there are some favors I want you to grant me, something 
I want to say to you while we are here alone, and a few 
things I wish to give you, to comfort you after I am 
gone. Don’t Cice — ” (as the girl made a wild motion to 
stop the words ere they were uttered ) — “ Don’t, dear! 
for I am weak — oh so weak, and tired all the time, that 
I must say to you what I want to say now, for fear I 
shall never have another chance. When I am here no 
more, Cicely, for I am going away very soon, I want you 
to comfort Bess, talk to her, and pet her, for she will 
miss me so. I know you will do this, Cice, (you would 
anyway, if I had not requested it). And don’t allow 
any one to ever ride her, or strike her a blow, or be un- 
kind to her, in any respect. I don’t know that any one 
on the place would do so, but I place her in your especial 
care, to see that she is always treated kindly. And here, 
Cicely, is one of my photos taken just before the races, 
one day when I went to the city with papa ; and here is 


[THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


125 


a curl of my hair, in this locket, I want you to keep it, 
and wear it after I am gone. I give them to you as a 
loving remembrance — not that I fear you will ever for- 
get me, unless reminded by this keep-sake, for that I 
know you never will, dear good, faithful girl. And I 
know too, Cicely, that you will some day come to dwell 
with me in that beautiful land ; I have perfect faith and 
belief that you will, for I know you will not be content 
to leave your little friend at the gates of death, and bid 
her a final farewell there. I know you will follow after 
me, dear, and I have an abiding faith, that your robes 
will be white and spotless, when the summons comes.” 
The weak white hand reached out. “ Will you, Cicely, 
dear ? 99 

Cicely struggled bravely to control herself for a few 
moments, ere she spoke, then she clasped the emaciated 
hand in both her own strong palms, while she answered 
solemnly — “ I will ; through the pangs of death, and the 
gates of the border land, — I will come to you, my Angel 
— my darling.** 

Then a flood of tears streamed from the dark eyes, the 
convulsed lips quivered cruelly, the long pent-up gates 
were burst at last, and a wailing, heart-broken, half- 
strangled cry rang out on the stillness of that sick room. 

Gently the little hand wiped away the tears; softly 
the low, sweet voice tried to soothe with comforting 
words, the grieving girl, and calm the tempest of her 
over-powering grief. 

When she had grown somewhat more composed, 
Lillian said, — “Now, Cice, help me down the back 
stairs; I want to talk to Bess, and bid her good-bye, 
while I have strength .” 

Cicely clasped the frail body in her strong, young 
arms, and tenderly, as a mother carries an infant, so 
did she bear her down the stairway, and out to the stone 
wall, where poor, patient Bess waited every day, and 
wondered why her young mistress came no more. Then 


126 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


she walked a little distance away, intuitively divining 
that Angel would like this last interview with her be- 
loved pet, alone, and unwitnessed by any one. What 
were the words that passed between them, no one ever 
knew; what the tender, whispered confidences, what the 
comforting, solacing injunctions, and final, pitying fare- 
well, was known only to those two — the fair, pale, spirit- 
ual looking girl, and the intelligent animal. Mutely 
Lillian rested her face against Bess’s dark head, and 
silently at last, the tender lips pressed the velvety muzzle. 

“ Good-bye my Bess, dear, loving, beautiful Bess,” 
Cicely heard her say in a sobbing tone, as she sprang 
forward just in time to catch the almost fainting form in 
her arms. Once more the caressing hand reached out 
and stroked the glossy head, and the tears fell hot and 
fast, as she repeated again, “ Good-bye — good-bye for- 
ever, my beloved Bess ; ” and the soft muffled neigh an- 
swered them, as Cicely again carried her into the house. 

“ Oh ! how kin I ever live without her ? ” was the con- 
tinual burdened cry, that rang through poor Cicely’s 
self-reproachful brain. “ I made her do it ! I made her 
ride for the purse to save the old place — and I killed 
her — oh ! I killed her. Maybe God will forgive me some- 
time, but I kaint forgive myself,— mo, not never. I 
kaint even pray; He wouldn’t listen to me if I did; if 
He won’t listen to that pore old white-hair’d man, as 
prays every mornin’ and evenin’ for Angel to be spared, 
and get well, then I don’t reckon He’ll listen to me, 
much less hear me. Don’t I know what he means by 
the. shorn lamb? Don’t I know he means Angel? 
Hain’t I heard aunty pray, too, with the tears runnin’ 
down her face, and droppin’ on the white bedspread, 
beggin’, and pleadin’, and cryin’ that Angel might live 
and get well? It don’t do no good! ’Pears like He 
don’t hear none on ’em. Maybe He don’t want to. 
Reckon He wants Angel Himself; reckon so ! But don’t 
we want her too ? Don’t her father want her, and don’t 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


127 


I want her, and don’t Bess want her jes the same? I 
reckon there’s plenty of angels in Heaven, ’thout takin’ 
her. He might leave this dear angel with us; I’d be 
a better girl if He’d let her stay. I’d commence right 
off by alius mindin’ Aunty, an’ I’d stop makin’ faces 
at the stable boy, and threatening to sell him down 
south, for a half white nigger. And I’d be so good to 
Angel — dear Angel, if He’d let her live and stay here.” 

And so poor Cicely wailed and sorrowed, and reas- 
oned with herself, not consciously intending any irrev- 
erence, but groping in her abject misery, for a ray of 
light, and comfort in the darkness, and wondering why 
an Infinite, and All-merciful God, could not, or would 
not hear and grant the agonized prayers, sent daily to 
the Throne of Grace, for Lillian’s hopeless recovery. 
But only the whispering pines heard her tearful lamen- 
tations that day, as seated on a fallen, mossy log, in 
their shadowy gloom, she gave vent to her grieving con- 
victions, never realizing that her communings were as 
sincere a prayer, as was ever offered in tears, and pain, 
and humiliation. 

“’Tain’t no use, Bess!” she said to the lonesome 
creature the following day after Lillian's touching fare- 
well at the gate, as she mutely followed Cicely across the 
meadow lot, where the girl perched herself upon the 
fence with her aunt’s large apron thrown over her face, 
she was giving way to her grief, where no one could wit- 
ness it. Bess stood patiently for a while waiting some 
recognition on Cicely’s part, then she thrust her black 
nose against the girl’s hand, with a soft little whinny. 
Down came the apron, and in a second her arms en- 
circled the graceful neck, while the tears dropped from 
the large eyes. “ ’Taint no no use, Bess,” she repeated 
again , — “ She is going to die ; it won’t be but a few 
days now. She aint even tryin’ to live no more; but 
she’s going to leave us both — you an’ me, an’ ^we kaint 
never see her no more after she’s gone, ’ceptin’ we go 


128 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


where she is, an* I don’t reckon that’s very easy, spec- 
ially fer a horse. Don’t reckon it will be very easy fer 
me nnther, and I’m a girl ’stead of a horse. But I 
promised her, and I’m goin’ to be good an’ try to get 
there, where she is going, fer I kaint live without her, 
an’ I hope we kin both go soon. Thar won’t be nothin’ 
to live fer after she’s gone. No one will love you an’ 
me, an’ keer fer us, like she did, and we must jes’ love 
each other, Bess; I promised her yisterday, that I’d 
take good keer of you, an’ pet you, an’ comfort you, an’ 
try to git you over it. But you kaint never fergit her, 
I know, no more ’an I kin ; you kaint never fergit, that 
you miss her little hand petting you, nor her dear voice 
calling you — “ Bess — my Bess ! ” You kaint never fer- 
git to mourn fer her, or come to the meadow gate, a 
lookin’ fer her, and wonderin’ why she don’t come no 
more ; but, Bess, while youY doing all that, don’t fergit 
one other thing — that Angel, our dear, blessed Angel, 
still loves us — you an’ me — even up above the stars, an’ 
she alius will, too, let that comfort you, Bess. An’ jes’ 
as I promised her, I’ll alius take keer of you, an’ watch- 
out fer you, an’ love you, as she wanted me to, an’ if 
any one is ever cross to you, or ever abuses you, you be 
sure to come an’ tell me, an’ I’ll fix ’em for it, Bess.” 
And the loyal, faithful girl slowly retraced her steps 
toward the house, with her hand resting on Bess’s neck, 
while she walked quietly beside her. 


[THE ANGEL OE JHE PINES 


129 


[CHAPTER XV. 

DEATH OF ANGEL LILLIAN. 

“ Come, gather ’round this burial place of clay. Ye of the laughter 
eye, and loving brow, I bid ye hither. For she who this day makes her 
bed neath the cool turf with flowers * be-sprent,’ was one of you ; time 
had not dim’d her eye, or changed her cheek’s young fairness— but all 
sweet and holy she had smiled, and lowly bent her head beneath the 
chastening rod, and so yielded up her young life at the Master’s call.”— 
Anon. 

But there came a day, when Lillian lay struggling, 
and gasping for breath, on the white-draped bed in the 
dainty room, that would ever be held in sacred remem- 
brance of her innocent girlhood. Without, God’s eter- 
nal sunshine, lay warm and mellow over all the beauti- 
ful southland; within, to the silent, anguished ones 
gathered around that little form, was the desolation, 
blackness and darkness of Hades. The soft breeze just 
moved gently the filmy lace draperies; the sweet scent 
of shrub, and rose, and southern blossom wafted into 
the open windows, while the weird sighing of the 
“ whispering pines ” sounded solemn and prophetic, in 
that quiet death chamber. 

“ No stain rests on the race of Sinclair.” 

“No! nor never yet, has a shadow pointed its 
finger to the ancient legend; and yet, with its pristine 
brightness untarnished, life would never again be the 
same to the inmates of the gray stone manor-house, as 
in the sunny years before. Was it possible that a curse 
could follow, blighting with an uplifted, and terrify- 
ing Nemesis, the lives of those left behind, when the 
blessed angel of the house-hold had flitted from their 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


;i3o 

sight forever ? A curse pronounced by beautiful scarlet 
lips, in a frenzied, irresponsible mood? Desmond won- 
dered and pondered over the subject; it certainly looked 
so, else why was his darling child taken in the sweet 
bud and blossom of her early girlhood? To Leonore’s 
death he had long ago become reconciled; complete 
forgiveness, and reconciliation had passed between them, 
even upon the flower-crowned border land. He had for- 
given, and had tried to forget. He had laid her away 
in peace, and silence rested over all; he felt that he 
had done his duty, and could do no more. But why 
should God take Lillian? the pure white blossom of 
the household, and the last of the race? Surely he had 
suffered enough in his young manhood, to be allowed to 
have the blessed comfort and solace of his innocent 
young daughter’s presence in his declining years. He 
thought of all the earnest, and heartfelt petitions that 
had been offered up in her behalf, and yet she was dying, 
the fair white flower, the last of the proud Sinclair’s. 
Very bitterly these thoughts surged through Desmond’s 
distracted brain, as silently kneeling there, he awaited 
the “ Coming of the King.” 

Suddenly the blue eyes opened, and the sweet voice 
rang out brokenly on the quietness of the room, — “ Papa, 
raise me up, so I can breathe.” 

Desmond sprang to his feet and gently gathered the 
slight form in his arms, and placed her in a half sitting 
posture among the pillows. 

Besting a moment, she spoke again. “ Oh papa ! 
papa ! I love you so dearly, and yet I am leaving you. 
Something, I cannot explain, yet I feel it here, (and she 
placed her delicate hand on her heart) tells me the ten- 
der pitying Saviour will take me home soon. I was so 
careless and happy here with you all, my dear ones, I 
fear I did not prize life as I ought or think seriously 
enough of its solemn uncertainty ; but I have thought a 
great deal in the last few weeks. I earnestly struggled 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 


131 

to live then, because I saw the hearts, and hopes that 
were breaking with grief around me; I prayed for 
health and strength, and life, that I might live, and be 
the comfort to you all, that you so much desired. But 
it was not to be; the One whom we must not question, 
knew best, and so I gave up the struggle, and — rested. 
Papa? I want to say something in love to you, some- 
thing you will remember as a comforting solace when 
I am gone. Don’t grieve for me, as for one you will 
never see again, — for you will; I shall try to be with 
you in spirit, in your daily walks in life. I shall try to 
comfort you, and have you feel that I still love you. 
And now, Papa — dear papa, before I go, I want you to 
promise that you will surely come to me, in that beau- 
tiful land, where it is always peace, and love, and sun- 
shine. Here, on this darkened earth, we live only for 
a little while; but up there — Eternally. Oh I cannot 
leave you until you promise; I know you do not be- 
lieve much in the unseen, and unknown, but try to 
drop all this skepticism out of your heart; try to be- 
lieve that a dear loving Saviour, who too, has suffered 
the pangs of death, loves and pities you in your sorrow 
and bereavement. Your little girl is pleading with you, 
papa, and you do not answer ; but I know you will prom- 
ise her before she goes, that you will surely join her 
there. Papa ! papa ! dear papa ! ” 

“ I will promise ! I will believe ! and I will come to 
you, my darling, my angel child,” Desmond answered 
as best he could in his choking, breaking sobs. 

A sigh of ineffable peace and rest, seemed to waft 
from the pale lips, and the white lids fluttered over the 
violet eyes. “ So tired,” they heard her softly murmur. 

Desmond’s head was pressing the pillow beside her. 
One little hand reached out, and slowly caressed the 
loved face. 

“You have made me so happy, papa — so happy!” 

“ Has our darling no word for us ? ” came in trem- 


132 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 

bling tones from the aged, grief-stricken ones standing 
silently at the foot of the bed. 

Again the blue eyes opened and gazed at them with 
tenderest love. “ Oh yes ! Everything for you. All the 
unspoken prayers, and love, and blessings of my life 
which I cannot tell you now, for I — am so — tired, so 
— tired ! ” Then the eyes closed again. “ Poor Cice ! 
where is she ? 99 they heard her whisper weakly. 

“ Here I am my darling, my white Angel,” said the 
weeping girl, as she clasped the little wan, groping hand 
in both her warm palms. 

Desmond pressed the white fingers that had fluttered 
to his face, close against his lips, and held them there. 
A silence fell upon the room, solemn and profound ; but 
the hearts that were breaking beneath their unspeakable 
weight of woe, in an agony of bereavement, that was 
numb to outward expression, never knew when a white 
robed Angel, with a crown of golden hair, flitted from 
their midst; and the utter silence was only broken, 
when the quivering voice of Desmond’s father ex- 
claimed — 

" Behold the bridegroom cometh.” 

Who can describe that anguished scene, when the 
stricken ones realized for the first time, that all was 
over, and that never again, as of yore, would that pure 
presence flit out and in among them, dropping the 
pearls of love and sunshine, and cheer? No one! 
Only the hearts that ache, — and break beneath their 
burdens ; only the ones that have passed through it all, 
can sympathize and know, by measuring their own 
grief and woe, with that of others. But no prayers, or 
tears, or agonized appeals to heaven, availed to save that 
precious life, or stay the icy hand of death; her work 
was done — her mission finished. And with the light of 
God’s Eternal world in her beautiful eyes, — “ The Angel 
of the Pines” had flitted back to the heaven from 


133 


THE ANGEL OF THE PINES 

whence she came, and where she was so sorely missed 
during her brief stay on this darkened earth, leaving 
sorrowing hearts behind, and a vacancy in the stately 
old mansion, that would never more be filled, while its 
grieving inmates lived. She had scarcely tripped over 
the flowers in her brief young life, blessing with her 
pure spirit, all with whom she came in contact, com- 
forting, loving and sweet, ere the soul’s windows were 
darkened forever, and the delicate hands were folded 
over pure white flowers, herself the fairest and purest 
of them all, and she was laid away amid scalding tears, 
in rest and solemn peace. 

A prematurely gray-haired man, aged with remorse, 
but not with years, walks ever beneath the shadow of 
the great trees, with bowed head, and slightly stooping 
shoulders; always in deep thought, but never alluding 
in word or act, to the canker worm that is ever silently, 
yet unceasingly eating deep into his heart, that heart 
that has grown so weary, — oh so weary, of life’s fitful 
dreams, and turmoils. He has long ago ceased to strug- 
gle, to question, or to wonder why he should be so 
severely punished by the world’s accepted God of mercy. 
He has ceased to hope, for to him, the future is utterly 
hopless. Will Angel’s pure spirit, with infinite love, 
succeed at last to draw him upward, and inward, to the 
haven of rest? We do not know! 

And Cicely ! Every day, in summer’s shimmering heat 
and winter’s sleet and snow, the slow foot-steps trace the 
worn path across the fields to the Cemetery, slowly, 
meditatively, (not with the old time vigor and elas- 
ticity, that is gone forever now) and no one knows of 
the silent communion, or the grieving appeals for for- 
giveness of the faithful girl, over the quiet grave of 
the golden haired — “ ANGEL OF THE PINES” 


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A Nest of Vipers — Morgan D. Jones 1.50 

Religious Works 

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Evolution of Belief — J. W. Gordon 1.50 

Down Hill and Up Hill — Rev. J. G. Anderson. . 2.00 

A Certain Samaritan — Rev. John Richelsen 1 .00 

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What the Church Is and What It Should Be — 

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Who? Whence? Where? An Essay by Pedro 

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Miscellaneous 

Anvil Sparks — Radical Rhymes and Caustic 

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Eureka, a Prose Poem — S. H. Newberry 1 .00 

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Poems by Charles Guinness 1 . 00 

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Ziegler & Herz 1 . 00 

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Jones 1. 00 

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Building a New Empire — Nathaniel M. Ayers. . 1.50 

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The Clothespin Brigade — Clara L. Smiley 75 

* 1 Forget It ’ ’ — Ida V on Claussen 1.50 

The Last Word: a Philosophical Essay — James 
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Travel 

Eight Lands in Eight Weeks (illustrated by 90 

drawings) — Marcia P. Snyder 1.25 

Eliza and Etheldreda in Mexico — Patty Guthrie 
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